#elevator takeover

[alienpossession]

This is the original post by @mindmelter

I think the tatted hunk knew how much I went nuts for him because he literally brought a friend along just a couple hours after the alien slithered into him with my help. This friend is similarly built with the tatted hunk (dare I say bigger) and he seemed to be more of a rugged, non-Caucasian version

This friend's takeover only happened hours after they walked out from the elevator and do God knows what in the tatted hunk's room. This time, the friend entered the elevator all alone as the time shown that it's almost sunrise. Judging from his look, he seemed to be heading to the gym and clearly they fucked the night before. I press the button to release yet another alien, and he seems to be too deep in his own thinking until it's too late as the alien already shot itself to his ear when he realized from his peripheral vision that something is lurking near him. He thrashed around wildly, a common occurence I already used to see for the past few months which indicate that the alien is on the process of covering the entirety of the human brain with its slimy self, and I obviously fished out my cock from my uniform while enjoying the sight.

After all the usual moves of physique check coupled with a quick self-worship, the alien then surprised me with his request

"Open up the access to your office, human. I want to meet you directly,"

"Okay, why?"

"We didn't employ you to ask question, human. Just do it,"

I have zero idea what is up with this particular one, but if it's like the encounter that happened during the early weeks I started this whole arrangement with them, well I expect him to fuck the shit out of my mouth, which I don't really mind if I have to be honest, but judging from the time, this is quite a risky move as the next shift is about to start in 40 minutes.

But I eventually let him walk into the control room since I'm not going to mess around with a slimy extraterrestrial being that can make my brain obsolete and practically turned me into a meat puppet. Once inside, he told me to open up the folder filled with all the video I have of all the takeover. I gulped before asking him

"Why?"

"How many times do I need to remind you that we don't employ you to ask questions, human. Just open the folder," As I double-click the folder and revealed the 68 videos of the takeover, he grinned at me

"Let's make video 69, shall we?" He double-clicked the video titled "The Three Musk-eeters" which I vividly remembered to showcase three gym junkie that just finished their late preparation for some sort of worldwide bodybuilding competition taken over by one slime that managed to split itself into 3 and made the three into a closely-coordinated unit that operates in group.

The video played while the tatted hunk draped his muscular arm over my shoulder and rested his chin on top of my head while his hand fondled my cock. "Sir, why are we doing this now? This is almost the end of my shift, what if the next shift walks in to us doing all this?"

"Well, you can always use a helping hand, don't you think? Oh fuck, look at them going at the blond's dick, how long you held that elevator LOL?"

"T---ten minaaaggghh---minutes,"

"Seems like you won't last that long if I keep this up, next video!" He stopped jacking off my cock, but not before he tugged at it very quickly I started to leak pre. Then, with that slick sweaty and slightly coated hands of his, he handily used the mouse to click on another video randomly. It opens the one titled "Gun-totting Russian" as he then moved away from his previous position and instead kneeling to then expertly swallowed the entirety of my 5.5 incher hardening cock.

All the crazy head action happened while my eyes fixated on the screen that shows how the big Russian dude, Maksim, managed to grab the slime and tossed it right before it shot itself to his ear canal. Then, he swiftly shot at the slime and split it into two, thinking that he just killed some sort of weird abomination or something. He then squatted, his big mistake, to check on what kind of shit that just attacked him but before he could thoroughly check it, the two slimes leapt from the floor right to his mouth and ear. He screamed to no avail as he flailed on the floor, all 240 pounds of his muscle jerked uncontrollably as the alien started its violent takeover of his massive body. The video successfully pushed my cock to reach its full mast at almost 6 inches and I can feel that I'm so close to shoot my load before the tatted dude stop the head action

"Ohhh.......judging from the file name and the sound made, it must be Maksim Alimov," he said to me while still placing himself in between my legs with his mouth hovering right in front of my cock and his nose exhaling warm air right to my tip, "Big catch, don't you think? Probably the most notorious one among the other 68. Must be crazy hot to think that such a ruthless mob boss on the run like Alimov there is merely a dumb muscle puppet *slow lick around my tip* controlled by my kind, all thanks to a lowly security *gentle flick of his tongue right on my piss slit* like you," he finished his sentence right when I eventually shoot the warm geyser all over his face.

He chuckled at the sudden eruption and in a shocking display of his puppet's physical advantage, his long tongue cleanly lapped the surrounding of his lips, chin and even the tip of his pointy nose. He then grabbed my day-old underwear and use it as if it's some kind of cloth to clean the rest of his face before tossing it back to me

"Well, that's video 69 for ya. No takeover but I bet it will be your favorite from now on because why on Earth a straight, macho tatted hunk like me willingly kneel and then eat your cum unless I'm just a brainless human with no free will whatsoever, right?"

I nodded in embarassment as his statement managed to make my softening cock hardened once more

"Fuck, you're one horny guy. Hmm too bad it's 5:47 now, clean yourself up quickly before your shift replacement comes. I'll see you later and keep up the good work, security man," he said as he quickly dashed out to the parking lot, probably roleplaying as the tatted hunk driving his sports car to do his morning gym routine.

As I finished dressing up, saving the recording of this very room from the time he came until he left just now and replaced it with fake recording of me just sat in silence, the time on the screen shows 5:52, and a fit-looking daddy just entered the elevator to come down for his breakfast.

Noting the usual time needed for takeover and how my friend Juan usually came a bit late around 6:03 to 6:05, I pressed the button to recruit this daddy to the collective. I'm this close to press the button once the daddy walked out from the elevator to have his breakfast in the hotel restaurant and a shirtless buzz blond stud walked into the elevator. But, it's 5:58 and I'm not about to risk Juan to witness what I'm up to, so I just sighed and prepare myself to leave for the day. Next time you'll not be so lucky, stud.

[get-em-pou]

We! Want! A! Team!

Aka, I got a little delusional tonight and made some silly logos for if the PWHL ever expanded to Denver. I am campaigning for the Denver Elevate/Elevation!!

[dex-starr]

God some wrestling themes are just so great for being productive whether it’s working out or actual work

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |1|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

You frowned as you looked down at your phone, there were a handful of unread texts to Tara that went unread. The last message she sent to you was a simple ‘I love you’ after you told her you had a late shift. She wasn’t completely ignoring you, but it was weird for Tara to not check her phone, especially since Sam, and you, to an extent, had been insistent on her responding regularly. You pocketed your phone and got back to work, you told yourself she was just studying, maybe the others came over and she got caught up hanging out with them.

You threw yourself into work for the next few hours. It was Friday night, the weekend of Halloween, the bar had been slammed since before your shift started. You had been in New York for about six months, you had quickly found a job at a bar, and Tara and her friends started school in the fall. The two of you juggled as best as you could, taking advantage when you were both off, but somehow it seemed like you saw each other less than before, even though now you were actually living together.

When your shift was finally over you clocked out and shoved your tips in your pocket. You stepped out of the bar, despite being well after midnight the city was still alive and thriving. You glanced at your phone one more time, Tara still hadn’t even opened your messages. You sighed and shoved your phone back in your pocket before making the trek back to the apartment. You sold your car when you got to the city to save on money and strictly took the subway or walked everywhere.

After half an hour you finally reached the apartment complex. You stomped up each staircase until you finally reached the top floor. As you got to the top you rested your hand on the railing and winced, you all agreed on the apartment, stairs were better than an elevator, and the top floor was the safest, but the stairs did your knee no favors. You held in a groan as you let go of the railing; despite being fully healed and the ongoing physical therapy, you accepted your knee would just never be back to a hundred percent.

You unlocked the various locks Sam installed as soon as the three of you moved in and stepped inside. You shoved your keys back in your pocket as you walked down the hall and into the living room. You heard Quinn in her room, hooking up with a guy, which was nothing new. You furrowed your brow as you looked around the room, the TV was off, and it didn’t look like anyone had been there all day.

“Tara!” you called out. You waited a second but there was no answer. You tried not to let your paranoia takeover, there were plenty of times you got home and Tara as up late studying, her headphones on, completely lost in the music.

You got an uneasy feeling as you walked down the hall to your shared room. The door was partially cracked, and you nudged it with your foot, letting it slowly swing open the rest of the way. You peeked your head in, not stepping fully into the room, when nothing happened you finally took a step in. You furrowed your brow, the bed was still made from when you left, Tara’s laptop was closed and sitting on her desk. Her backpack was sitting next to her desk chair, proving that she did in fact come home after class, but there was no sign of Tara.

You perked up when you heard the front door open. “Tara?” you called out again. It was late, but it was a Friday night, and she might have gone out with the others to get something to eat. “Tara?” you made your way back towards the living room. You paused when you didn’t see your girlfriend but Sam standing there.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam asked tiredly.

You cautiously stepped into the room; you had been living with Sam for about six months and had gotten pretty good at reading her moods. You and Sam were by no means best friends, probably wouldn’t even consider yourselves friends at all, but you both learned to tolerate each other. Sam’s mood was particularly grouching this night, and you didn’t think it had to do with Tara not being home.

“Did Tara mention anything about going out?” you asked. You tried to keep your tone nonchalant just in case Tara had messaged Sam and not you.

“She’s not here?” Sam shouted. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, there went your last strand of hope. “Quinn!” Sam brushed right past you without another glance. “Quinn!”

The noises from the other girl’s room quieted down and a moment later the door creaked open. Quinn came out of her room, still in the middle of pulling her shirt down. “Sorry,” she said. “Were we to loud?” she gestured back at her room.

“Have you seen Tara?”

Quinn opened and closed her mouth a few times. “She came home,” she nodded.

You tilted your head and narrowed your eyes at Quinn. “Where is she?” you asked.

“She went to the Omega Kappa Beta party,” Quinn said hesitantly.

You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I begged her not to go to that!” Sam said.

You had been there for that conversation, if one could call it that, Tara had asked, Sam had said no, and Tara had started arguing. The argument ended like it always did, you trying to play peacekeeper and Tara storming off to the bedroom. You understood why Tara wanted to go to the party, it was her first year of college and it was probably the biggest frat party going on for Halloween, but you also didn’t disagree with Sam’s decision. You and Sam both worked late, you couldn’t go to the party with Tara, and you didn’t wany anything to happen to her.

“Did she at least take her taser?” Sam asked. You could see her visibly trying not to freak out. Sam had been overprotective, to say the least, ever since last year happened. Tara hadn’t been making it easy, but you could see Sam was truly trying to give her sister the space she desired.

“I cannot speak to how heavily armed Tara is at this fraternity party,” Quinn answered.

You let out another sigh, even before Sam went and found said taser in the bowl on the table by the door you knew Tara hadn’t taken it. Out of all the things Sam asked of her you didn’t think carrying a taser around was too much. You were living in New York, anything could happen at any point in time, that wasn’t even considering the fact that all of you had survived a Ghostface attack. You felt like Tara just didn’t want to carry the taser because Sam wanted her to, just another way of Sam attempting to control her.

“I’m going to look for Tara,” Sam called out, grabbing her keys again.

“Wait,” you called out. “I’m coming with you.” You winced as you jogged to catch up to Sam.

Sam looked down at your knee and back up at you. “Do you need to grab your brace?”

You really wanted to, you probably needed to. You tried not to wear the brace too often; you didn’t want to become reliant on it. You only wore it when you were doing more strenuous activity than usual or if your knee was being particularly bothersome. “No time,” you waved her off. It would only take a moment to put on, but you didn’t want to stop when you had no idea if Tara was alright or not.

Sam hesitated a moment but eventually nodded. You and Sam didn’t exactly have deep and meaningful conversations, but she seemed to be the only one who noticed how much pain your knee caused you. Sam had actually been the one to buy you the brace. You had worked a long shift, your knee causing you more pain than usual after moving nonstop for hours when Sam tossed you the brace while you sat on the couch, your leg propped on the coffee table to rest it a bit.

You followed behind Sam on the way to the party, trying to keep up with her as best as you could. She finally slowed down when you got in front of a large house with music blasting and people spilling out of it. The door was already wide open when you and Sam walked in. Just as the two of you entered you saw some guy holding Tara by the arm and trying to drag her upstairs, with Chad quickly trying to interfere.

Before you could get to her Tara tripped at being dragged up the stairs and Chad yanked the other guy down. The man shoved Chad away and reached for Tara again, but Sam was right there and ready to tase him. Your eyes widened at the action, but you didn’t get a chance to dwell on it for long as Tara pushed past you and stormed out of the frat house.

“Wait,” you called out, quickly following after Tara. “Wait!” you winced as you sidestepped a drunk stumbling up the sidewalk.

“Tara!” Sam called out from behind you. You glanced back to see her and the others following behind.

“Can you just stop for a second?” you tried to ask as nice as possible. Tara was still walking away from all of you at full speed and at this rate she would soon lose you.

“Will you stop!” Sam snapped.

“I can’t believe you,” Tara snapped. She didn’t stop walking away but she slowed down enough to turn and look at Sam. “You just embarrassed me in front of everyone.”

“Come on,” Sam groaned. “That guy was a creep!”

“Nothing was going to happen!” Tara stopped, spinning around to finally face her sister.

“He was trying to take advantage of you!”

“Why do you care?”

You stepped back as Tara and Sam continued to argue back and forth. You eventually tuned them out, all their arguments started to sound the same when it was a weekly occurrence. You caught bits and pieces of the argument, Tara pointing out how Sam was gone for years and now that she was back couldn’t seem to leave Tara alone, while Sam kept trying to bring up seeing a councilor. You asked Tara about talking to a professional once and were quickly shut down, after that you dropped it. As much as you thought talking to someone would help Tara you didn’t want to force her, you just hoped that when she was ready, she’d come to you.

“I’m not going to let my life be defined by three days,” Tara snapped. Something about those particular words seemed to bring your focus back to the conversation.

When you looked up though Tara was already storming off. You jogged to catch up to her despite the protest of your knee. “Hey, look, I get it,” you started when you got to Tara’s side. “But don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

“You’re just as bad!” Tara whipped around, making you stop in your tracks. You tried not to flinch at her harsh tone, Tara and you disagreed on things but neither of you had ever raised your voice at each other.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stumbled over your words. Tara was drunk and this clearly wasn’t the time to try having this type of conversation, you just need to keep her calm and get back to the apartment safely. “We just worry about you.”

“Well stop!” That time you did actually flinch at her words. “What happened happened,” she gestured around. “It’s in the past!” she gestured widely with her hand. “I’m trying to move on with my life, you all need to too.”

This time when Tara turned and stormed away you didn’t rush to catch up to her. You stood there for a moment, replaying Tara’s words in your head as the others passed you, Anika giving your shoulder comforting squeeze as she went with Mindy and Chad to catch up with Tara. You watched them walk away, just glad that at least someone was close on the rest of the walk home since Tara wanted nothing to do with you and Sam at the moment.

You sulked the entire way home and up to the top floor of the apartment complex. You were the last one to arrive to the apartment, after Tara told you to back off you took your time, not wanting to put any more strain than necessary on your knee. When you got inside Chad, Mindy, Anika, and Ethan were all on the couch, while Sam was in the kitchen, and Tara was nowhere in sight.

You silently walked through the living room and towards the bathroom. You dug around the medicine cabinet and finally found a bottle of Advil. You went back to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water before making your way to yours and Tara’s room. When you got to the door you gave a small knock.

“Come in,” came a whispered response.

You quietly opened the door and slipped into the room, making sure to shut the door behind you. “You don’t have to knock,” Tara said in a much softer tone than earlier. “It’s your room too.”

You walked further into the room and sat the water and Advil on the dresser. “Wasn’t sure what I was walking into,” you admitted. You leaned your back against the dresser, but your eyes were on the floor instead of Tara.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” she said kindly. “I just…” you glanced up to see her trying to gather her thoughts but quickly dropped your eyes back to the floor. “I don’t need you and Sam both being overprotective and always hovering over everything I do.” You could hear the slight irritation in her voice but unlike earlier she was trying not to snap at you.

“I’m fine,” she insisted again. “I just want to move on.” Tara stood up from the bed and made her way closer to you. “You’ve been different since the attacks last year.” You huffed out a laugh, you weren’t sure how you couldn’t possibly different after what happened. “I just want my girlfriend back,” Tara ran her hand down your arm until it was resting atop of your own hand. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“Just three days,” you whispered, still not looking up at Tara.

“What?” Tara asked, you could hear the confusion in her voice.

“Just three days,” you looked up and stared right into her eyes. “That’s what you called it.” Tara furrowed her brow. “Just three days,” you gave a little shrug. “Do you know what I went through in those three days?”

Tears filled your eyes as you stared at Tara, waiting for her to answer you. She never did though, Tara remained silent, she didn’t need to answer you though, you knew she knew the answer to that question. “Within three days,” you continued. “My girlfriend was attacked.” This time it was Tara’s turn to drop her eyes to the floor. “I wasn’t there,” you shook your head. “I wasn’t there while the love of my life was lying there dying,” your voice cracked.

“Now, I get to spend the rest of my life hating myself for not being there,” you continued. “Every time I’m not with you, I worry about what could happen when I’m not there again.” Tara finally glanced up at you again. “Like tonight,” your voice got louder than intended, making Tara flinch ever so slightly. “I was at work, just like year,” you gestured, it wasn’t until this moment that you realized how similarly everything felt to last year. “When I got home, you weren’t here,” your voice almost cracked again. “And I got to run off with Sam to a frat party, only to see you being dragged up the stairs by some douchebag,” your voice got louder when you mentioned the guy from the party. “Once again, a reminder of what can happen when I’m not there,” you shook your head and let out a humorless chuckle.

You looked up at the ceiling as you tried to calm yourself down, willing the tears in your eyes to not fall. “I was also accused of murder last year,” you said without much emotion in your voice. “Accused of hurting you,” your voice cracked again at just the idea of someone thinking you’d ever hurt Tara. “By your friends. The only good thing to happen last year was that you didn’t believe them.” You looked back into Tara’s eyes again. “You never wavered on me.” You could see the love in Tara’s own tear-filled eyes as she clearly listened to every word. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt,” you whispered. “That on top of spending a year being told by your friends I wasn’t good enough for you and your sister coming back and instantly saying the same thing, is that every single one of them jumped on the idea of thinking I was the potential killer.”

You tried not to let it bother you at the time and even after, Tara had believed you and that was all that really mattered. No one ever apologized for accusing you though, even after it was revealed Amber was the one who was a psycho killer, not a single one of the others apologized to you. You didn’t expect an apology from Sam, you would have been more concerned if she did apologize actually. Chad and Mindy didn’t bother either though, you still weren’t close with them, though they had been a little nice to you since everything happened.

“Then on top of everything else,” you whispered. “Within those same three days, I learned who my parents were,” your voice cracked. “I spent my whole life thinking I was unloved, just tossed away like trash,” you gestured with your hand.

“Turns out, I’m the kid of two legacies,” you let out a humorless chuckle. “And my mom abandoned me because she chose her carer over me and my…” you trailed off as you choked on your words.

You cleared your throat and tried to distance any emotion you may have felt from what you were trying to say. “He was the nicest, most loving man there was, who would have done everything he could to be a good father, but he never even knew I existed,” your voice cracked despite your best efforts. “And when he found out.” Your eyes got distant as you remembered back to that day. “He never even got the chance to know me,” you whispered. “Because I pushed him away,” a single tear finally fell from your eyes. “Then he died.” You quickly wiped the tear away. “His last act was saving my life and then he died.”

Before Tara could say anything, you pushed yourself off the dresser and wiped the rest of the tears in your eyes as you walked around to your side of the bed. You grabbed your pillow and looked down, quietly debating if you needed to grab anything else. You shook your head and tucked the pillow under your arm then made your way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Tara asked, gently reaching for your arm before you could make it out of the room.

You sighed and turned to face Tara again. “I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. You didn’t wait for her to try apologizing or to talk you out of it, you simply turned on your heel and left the room without another word.

When you got back out to the living room you saw that, thankfully, everyone was gone, having gone home for the night. You dropped your pillow on the side of the couch you wanted to lay on then sat down. This would be the first night you didn’t sleep next to Tara since the attacks, you didn’t want this, but you felt it was needed. Tara wanted space and after tonight you needed time to clear your head, it was better this way.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I will be.” You truly believed that, you knew in your heart that you would be fine, that you and Tara would figure this out, the two of you just needed a small amount of distance, at least for a night to really think about everything. “Are you okay?” you looked over at Sam, suddenly remembering the look she had on her face when entering the apartment earlier.

Sam let out a humorless chuckle and took a seat at the dining table, that’s when you knew it wouldn’t be good. “I got fired.”

“From the diner?” Sam nodded and dropped her head in her hands. In the six months since all of you had gotten to New York Sam had been through several jobs; she was a decent employee it seemed, but something always came up that led to them letting her go.

“We’re looking for another bartender,” you offered. “If you’re interested.”

“You’re dating my little sister,” Sam said. “We live together and knowing I’m not your biggest fan, you seriously think working together is a good idea?”

You shrugged, Sam did sort of have a point. “The money is good.” That wasn’t going to stop from suggesting the idea though. “Besides, we’ll probably be on rotating days, except for when we’re busy,” you added. “We might actually see less of each other.”

Sam smiled at that, seeming to like the idea a little more. “Thanks,” she mumbled as she got up from the dining table and made her way to her own room.

You smiled to yourself then hit the light for the living room. You settled back down on the couch, this time stretching out to take up the whole area. You pulled the blanket down off the back of the couch and wrapped it around yourself. You laid your head back down against your pillow and silently hoped for a rare non-restless sleep as you closed your eyes. You tried not to think about anything that happened earlier and just focused on falling asleep.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fifteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: Will I remain posting regularly? That remains to be seen by everyone, myself included....Because every single time I say something, I end up accidentally not posting for weeks. Anyways, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right. 

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

“Where are you going?” 

A full day had passed since y/n found the picture in the elevator, and she half-expected Bruce’s voice to be a dream when she turned around. She hadn’t slept much, except for a brief few hours where her body literally had shut down and forced her into unconsciousness. Fear was her constant companion, but now, when she turned to see Bruce standing behind her with his arms crossed, anger cut through the fog of fear like a spear of flame. 

She mirrored his stance and crossed her own arms. “I’m going to let it slide since we’re all stressed, but try to boss me around again and see what happens.” 

Both of their jaws were clenched tightly shut. 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. She could practically hear the words come out of his mouth, That’s not an answer. 

“I asked Gordon to come up,” she finally said, caving, though the anger still simmered below the surface. The nerve that Bruce Wayne had to barely be home, to barely care about her, and still try to boss her around all the same. She was this close to punching him in the face or pushing him down the stairs. Or maybe she would pour ice cubes in his bed next time he was asleep. “And if you’re going to bother me every single time I’m next to the fucking elevator, think again.”

Bruce relaxed marginally, completely ignoring her barbed comment–which was probably for the best. She had no energy left to really fight, anyways. 

Most of that energy had gone towards a preliminary article she had just submitted about the Gallo family. She hadn’t released any details about her involvement with them, merely reporting the fact that they were trying to make a move on Gotham. 

She had debated doing the article at all. Was it better to pretend like nothing was happening? Was it better to keep her head down and wait for it to resolve itself, whether because of Gordon and the Batman or through the Gallos finally getting to her? 

But then she realized that the people of Gotham deserved the truth, or at least as much of it she could get away with. She was already a target, but she didn’t need everyone else knowing that. 

So she had simply decided to send an article to print that Gotham was on the brink of another mob takeover, just like all of the business with Falcone and Maroni and everyone else who had corrupted their city. 

If only half of the city shared her views, y/n knew that they wouldn’t be happy with someone else trying to worm their way into their city. Gotham might be a shithole, but it was their shithole. 

The moment she had hit send, it had hit her. 

She didn’t want to be a sitting duck. She wanted to do something about it. She wanted those bastards gone. She wanted the work Bella Real and the Batman and cops like Gordon had done in the last year to stick–or at least have the chance of doing so. 

She had called Gordon, told him she wanted to talk over some things, that she needed company anyways. 

And now there she was, staring down the man who had broken her heart, waiting on Gordon to arrive on the elevator behind her. 

“Gordon and I are going to have a private conversation,” she said pointedly as the elevator doors slid open behind her. 

“Y/n,” Gordon said in greeting, but she still didn’t turn around. She and Bruce were still in the middle of their standoff. “Mr. Wayne. Good to see you again, at least under more…normal circumstances than last time.” 

She raised an eyebrow at Bruce. She could tell he wanted to argue, wanted to stick around and stick his nose even further into her business. But after a long silence, he inclined his head and said, “Detective,” before turning and disappearing back the way he had come. 

Once Bruce was safely out of earshot, she gave Gordon her full attention and said what had been on her mind the past couple of hours. Or, if she was being completely honest, the past several days.

“I want you to use me as bait, and I don’t want you to argue about it. I want you to help me actually figure out how to get rid of these motherfuckers.” She crossed her arms again for good measure.  

Gordon sighed, long and loud. She expected an argument or a lecture or a combination of the two. But instead, all he said was, “We better bring our other friend into this discussion.” 

–

“Absolutely not,” was the very first thing the Batman said when she laid out her plan. 

“Yeah, well, as I like to point out to certain other people in my life, you’re not the boss of me. I’m going to do something stupid with or without your help, because I am fucking sick of this. Alright? I can’t live like this.” She shivered as a particularly brutal gust of wind cut through her. 

They were on top of the signal tower. She and Gordon had decided together that it was easier to smuggle her out than it would be to smuggle Batman in. Besides, she didn’t want those two parts of her life mixing. God forbid Bruce find out what she was up to. She was arguing with him enough already. 

Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to disappoint Alfred, or cause him any more stress than she already had. 

The smuggling had taken a willing female detective–a nice woman in her late thirties name Lori Ayers–trading places with y/n. They were relatively the same height and build luckily enough, and Detective Ayers was already assigned to the security on Wayne Tower. An outfit switch, a fake detective badge, and lots of praying later, and there they were. Y/n had asked Gordon and Ayers if she could have a gun, but both of them had practically shouted no in her face. 

Gordon held up his hands, ever the peacekeeper. “Listen, man, I’m not saying we should put her in any unnecessary danger, but–” 

“The whole idea is unnecessary danger!” The Batman cut in. His voice echoed in the darkness of the night around them. 

Gordon continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “–but all I’m saying is that we aren’t any closer to catching these guys. None of us are. So if we can do something we know will draw them out…why not do it?” Gordon gave her a wry look. “And, like she said, it’s probably better to have us for backup before she does anything stupid on her own.” 

Y/n gave Batman a triumphant look as if to say See? I’m right. 

She studied him while he worked his jaw in annoyance. Was he sick of looking out for her? Because she was certainly sick of needing to be looked out for. She wanted to end it. 

“Fine,” he said, the word a growl he spat out. She tried to resist pumping her fist in the air, she really did. He gave her a Look with a capital L that had her lowering it immediately. “But let me just–let me follow this last lead, alright? If it doesn’t pan out, we’ll make a plan. Give me tonight before you do anything stupid.” 

She nodded eagerly. “Great, fine. I needed to get out of the house anyway.” Gordon was also giving her a Look. “What?” she said a bit defensively. 

“You’re awfully upbeat for someone who wants to offer herself up for bait to the mob.” He raised one dark eyebrow above the frames of his glasses. 

She shrugged. “Well, I have cabin fever, so this helped my mood immensely. Plus, the end is in sight. It’s about to be over, one way or another.” 

Later, when she thought back to that moment, she would wonder if she had jinxed it. Or maybe she was simply jinxed all along, one thing leading to another, leading to its inevitable end. Leading to the only possible way it could play out. Her luck, ever since stepping foot back in Gotham–and even before then, ever since Alfred had knocked on her apartment door–had been nonexistent. 

“One last lead,” Batman repeated, holding her gaze steadily for once. Something ran through her like an electric current at that look. Like he was trying to tell her something. 

“One last lead,” she said, crossing her heart for good measure. “I promise I’ll be good.” 

Gordon chuckled like he didn’t quite believe her. “Alright, let’s get back.” 

“I’ll follow you,” Batman said, interrupting her thoughts of how she was going to get Gordon to sneak her past Bruce and Alfred both. She hadn’t told either of them she was leaving, and she didn’t want to think about what they would say to her if they found out. It would only make her life that much harder. 

Her ride back with Gordon was mostly quiet. 

“Where did you get this fake badge anyways?” she asked when Wayne Tower’s doors finally came into view. She toyed with it, noting all the ways it looked like the real deal. Maybe she could hold onto it…just in case. 

“Confiscated it from a kid caught forging all kinds of stuff, including badges she used to get classified materials.” 

She. Interesting. Sounded like somebody y/n would like to hang out with. 

She didn’t say any of that out loud, however. All she did was hum and put the badge back on her belt. 

“And no, I won’t give you her name,” Gordon said. Their eyes met and they both laughed in tandem. 

“Fine, fine. I might be able to find it on my own anyway.” She winked. 

They parked in an alley where Gordon or the other detectives on stakeout duty usually parked. As they stepped out into the cold air, Gordon’s phone rang. 

“Just a second,” he said, stepping further towards the mouth of the alley. “I have to take this. Don’t move.” He pointed at threatening finger at her. She held up both hands in surrender. 

He needn’t have worried–the sound of an approaching motorcycle reached her ears as Batman pulled into the alley behind them. The noise reverberated off of the building walls for a moment before abruptly shutting off. Gordon locked eyes with him, inclined his head, and then answered the phone while striding towards the street ahead. 

“So,” she said casually to Batman as he stood broodily in the shadows. “Think I could have been a detective in another life?” She struck a little pose in her smart, borrowed business suit and trench coat, imagining the fake badge glinting in the low light. 

Batman made a noise that could have been a scoff or a laugh. “Sure, except you would have been fired for repeatedly breaking the rules. And laws.” 

She laughed delightedly. “You’re probably right.” She definitely had chosen the only profession that suited her nosiness and penchant for getting into trouble, something Bruce had pointed out years ago. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

They were closer together than she expected, the toes of their shoes almost touching. She wasn’t sure how that had happened. It was if they had both been drawn in by the other’s gravity, invisible and inevitable. He stared down at her for a moment before, of course, turning his face away. 

“There you go again,” she murmured as she memorized the line of his jaw. “Scared to look me in the eyes.” She reached out and poked his stubbled cheek gently. He froze, but didn’t make a move to step away. 

“I’m scared for you,” he said in an equally soft voice that sent shivers over her skin. “I don’t want you to have to offer yourself up. I don’t like thinking that I might not be able to keep you safe.” 

Y/n felt each of his words sink into her like rocks in a deep lake, sinking down and down and down until they settled at the bottom, heavy in her stomach. She was staring up at him now, their breath mingling, and he was finally, finally looking back. 

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

Instead, she did the next best thing. 

She stretched up onto her toes and kissed him. 

He went so still she immediately knew she had overstepped–and had overstepped badly. She quickly pulled away, face on fire, eyes straining to find anything to look at other than the rejection in his eyes. Stupid, that was so stupid. Just because he wanted her safe didn’t mean that he wanted her to kiss him. 

But before she got too far, his gloved hand caught her arm and tugged her closer. And then he was kissing her.

She inhaled deeply, her stomach doing somersaults in a way it had never done before. She was flying above Wayne Tower yet still somehow firmly rooted to the ground. It was like she could finally breathe again and yet somehow she was gasping for breath. His lips were gentle. One of his hands cupped her elbow while the other splayed across her upper back. She wished he had his gloves off, like that moment in another alley on another night. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. 

Then he was gone, a full step away. 

She couldn’t help it–her fingers traced her lips in a daze. 

They were staring at each other, both breathing slightly heavier than they had been before. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Gordon called from behind her somewhere. She couldn’t bring it within herself to care if he had seen or not. Her and the Batman were still staring at each other, in their own world, a seismic shift between them. 

“Goodnight,” she said, her voice low and raspy with want. 

“Be safe,” was all the Batman said as he watched her go. 

Gordon didn’t look at her like he had just seen them kissing, but she felt as if it were written all over her face. 

“Crime never sleeps,” he said to her as they walked the short distance to the doors. His head was constantly swiveling, searching for danger, and she knew a certain vigilante was watching from the shadows as well. 

Her entire body was electric, every nerve ending on fire, heat settling in her face and chest and lower, too. 

For once, she wasn’t wondering about who the Batman was. Her mind had been rendered totally blank by one kiss. She wasn’t even thinking about how he wasn’t Bruce Wayne, like every other kiss of her life. 

Instead it simply felt…right. 

She blinked and they were somehow inside. 

“Blake, can you escort Detective Ayers upstairs? I have to go to a crime scene.” Gordon gave Blake a long, searching look. Y/n knew that the moment the security guard looked up, he would recognize her. 

Sure enough, he did. His face did something complicated before he realized what Gordon said and stammered out, “S-sure. This way, Detective, um, Ayers.” He hit something on the computer keyboard, scrambling, having to hit whatever button it was a second time. 

“See you later,” Gordon said to her, the words full of meaning. 

She turned towards him and nodded. “Goodnight.” 

It felt stupid, pretending to be someone else in the lobby of her home, but they still didn’t know who had breached security two nights earlier. She knew it was better to be safe than sorry, but Blake knew who she was. What was to stop whoever worked for the Gallos from recognizing her as well? She imagined their pub, Maverick’s, covered in hundreds of stalkery photos of her. 

Gordon waved over his shoulder as she and Blake stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid closed, y/n relaxed a bit. Everything was almost over. 

And she had kissed the Batman.

A smile grew on her face before she could stop it. 

When she glanced up, Blake was watching her. 

His upper lip and his hairline were beaded with sweat and he was much paler than normal. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, wondering if maybe he was sick. Something in her gut shivered with warning. 

“I’m so sorry–” he said, the words choked. “I’m so sorry. They have my sister.” 

That’s when she saw the glint of a needle in his hand.

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[danganronpadedication]

DAY 12: DANGANTOBER

Day 12: Remnants of Despair

AT LAST, AT LONG, LONG LAST! IT'S HAPPENING, IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING! THE EVENT ONE BILLION YEARS PROPHESIZED HAS COME TO PASS! THE DAY HAS COME! I FINALLY GET TO RANT ABOUT THE REMNANTS! Hats off to you if you know what I was referencing just now, lol.

I've said this a lot, but I really love the Remnants of Despair. They're my favorite part of the Danganronpa story, and I think they're criminally underused. There's just so much potential to explore and work with, and it's something that plagues my mind 24/7. Their designs are awesome, their psychology is interesting, and further exploring them not only paints a more detailed picture of the characters, but of the Danganronpa world as a whole. In this post, I'll be talking about EVERYTHING, from what they did, to how they look, whatever comes to mind, really.

For those of you who have forgotten the details of the Remnants, never played or watched UDG, or just never watched the episodes of the anime where we get information about them, here's a recap.

So, hopefully everyone reading this is familiar with the cast of SDR2. That group of students are the ones who go on to become the Remnants of Despair (+Hajime, even though he was just a reserve course student at the time). While they were at Hope's Peak, they rarely hung out with one another. Their teacher, Chisa Yukizome, rounded up everybody and made them start coming to class so they could form connections with each other. This class of students consisted of Teruteru, Peko, Mahiru, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Mikan, Gundham, Nekomaru, Nagito, Chiaki, Fuyuhiko, Sonia, Kazuichi, Akane, and Imposter pretending to be a character named Ryota Mitarai (who will be discussed later in this post). After a few days of knowing each other, and a certain soup-related incident that I will not ruin this post with, Chiaki is named as the class representative.

As each day passed by, the class grows closer together, and closer to people outside of class as well. Chiaki makes friends with Hajime, and Mikan finds out about the real Ryota, and about Junko and Mukuro. Junko uses Mikan as a test subject for her despair video, and it works on her. She doesn't show up to class anymore, and one day, someone spots her on campus, so everyone goes searching for her. Nagito and Chiaki stumble across a hidden passageway, where they find Junko and Izuru. Nagito is injured in the interaction, and Chisa provides a distraction for the two of them to get away.

I fear I am jealous of Nagito here lmao. Chiaki and Nagito go back to the rest of the class, who found Mikan, and they all decide to go back for Chisa. Meanwhile, Junko has already brainwashed Chisa, and her master plan is set into motion. The class walks through the secret passageway, and Mikan separates Chiaki from everyone else. Chiaki runs into Chisa, who leads her to an elevator that takes her to a dungeon-like obstacle course, full of spikes and boulders. She must escape to get back to her friends, and Chiaki actually manages to reach the end. Unfortunately, she's been tricked, and she gets impaled by multiple spikes, dying from her injuries in a scene I will never forget.

The others are shown the footage of her death, and they begin to feel despair over the traumatic loss of their friend. Taking advantage of their anguish, Junko begins to play her despair video for the class, brainwashing them into Ultimate Despairs, who are then let loose to cause chaos in the world. The next time we hear about them as an active group, it's at Makoto's hearing for disobeying the Future Foundation to help them. There, we get this picture.

Whoever designed them ate, I fear. As the Remnants of Despair, they use their ultimate talents to spread despair in unique ways, from building weapons of mass destruction, aiding other subsidiary groups of despair, to tyrannical takeovers of certain parts of the world.

Anyways, Makoto manages to rehabilitate them in SDR2, and its a happily ever after for them as reformed, wanted dead or alive war criminals <3 But, a lot of what they did, with the exception of Nagito, is left up in the air for us fans to theorize about.

Speaking of Nagito, let's talk about Servant first. Nagito basically became a single father as a Remnant. As Servant, Nagito's job is to watch over and aid the Warriors of Hope, consisting of Masaru Daimon, Jataro Kemuri, Kotoko Utsugi, Nagisa Shingetsu, and Monaca Towa. He's the only Remnant that we really get to see in action, being a pivotal character in Ultra Despair Girls.

Nagito is unique from the rest of the Remnants in many ways. He's not expressly violent like many of them are, preferring to be more manipulative in his methods. Despite his title, he pulls the strings of a lot of things that happen in UDG. When he's not making milkshakes for those tyrannical little gremlins, or being outed by Kurokuma, he's blackmailing and kidnapping members of the Future Foundation, like Toko and Byakuya respectively. He's tricking the kids, working under the guise of being subservient to them and their want to create a paradise for children, instead working with Monaca to bring about Junko's successor.

He also has a very strange relationship when it comes to Junko. While a lot of the others seem to view her as their leader, he hates her with every ounce of his being. That's the entire reason he's working to bring a form of her back after her death. The idea of her being alive once again causes him intense despair. He even says that he's jealous of Makoto, because he wanted to be the one to kill Junko himself. He despises her for turning everyone away from hope, including himself. But, he also still seems to have some kind of twisted appreciation for her as well, stating that she's the woman he loves and hates the most. After the plan to create Junko's successor falls through in UDG, he decides to raise Monaca to be Junko's successor herself, stating that because he loves and hates her so much, he can recreate her perfectly.

Nagito's also one of the three Remnants who actually scavenged from Junko's dead body, the other two being Mikan and Fuyuhiko. Nagito took Junko's arm, replacing his own with it. Looking at it causes him despair, since now she's stuck as a part of him. It's unclear what else he did, but we know he was just as, if not more, overzealous about it as he is about hope. It's his maniacal nature that manages to turn Monaca off from despair in the anime, saying that she'd rather not end up as crazy as him. For a character who was so determined to usher in a new era of despair, the fact that Nagito was too crazy even for her, speaks volumes. Don't worry, these other sections won't be as long, since there's not much info about them besides fanon.

Next up, Kazuichi Souda. The only bit of real content we get of him is a small compilation in one of the episodes, showing him working on a large Monokuma robot. This Monokuma robot was featured in the end of Ultra Despair Girls, nicknamed 'Big Bang Monokuma' by everyone's LEAST FAVORITE CHARACTER, Haiji Towa. Haiji is nasty, and if you like him, he's one of the characters I CANNOT see why you'd like him. Haiji likers, DNI.

Anyways, aside from working on Big Bang Monokuma, it can also be inferred that he would go out with weapons and either supply or fire them in crowded areas. After all, there's only one character we know of who would match the dude in the beanie.

I personally believe that Kazuichi was mainly responsible for two major things. The different Monokumas that can be found around Towa City, such as Ball and Junk Monokuma, and the executions from THH.

My biggest piece of evidence for that above claim, comes from Kazuichi's free time events, where he says that he wants to build the fastest motorcycle ever, even though he'd be too scared to ride it. Aside from being the only character in this lineup(apart from Izuru) who could feasibly make the executions, Mondo dies from a motorcycle that can go fast enough to liquify him.

Also, I think that each Remnant went against their personal life goals mentioned in the final episode of despair arc, to create maximum despair. They are asked to state what they want to do with their lives, and they say things like "solve all diseases", "create peace treaties", "increase animal welfare" etc. Kazuichi says that his personal goal is to eliminate all pollution from the atmosphere, so I think he'd be responsible for polluting the air even more, dumping oil in the seas. He is the reason the sky is red, and why Hope's Peak needs an air purifier for the participants in that game. Poor guy, when he's not simping for Sonia, he seems like an actually pretty chill person to be around, especially in those final episodes.

Speaking of Sonia's simps, next is Gundham. We see him in that compilation, surrounded by all sorts of animals. Snakes, elephants, giraffes, you name it. Though, notably, the Four Dark Devas/Twelve Zodiac Generals (all hamsters, the devas are part of the twelve), are absent from the line up.

It can be deduced that Gundham released dangerous animals from zoos and sanctuaries, letting them run amok through major cities. He managed to rally the animals together, training them to be very destructive, and ultimately uses them in battles against the Future Foundation.

Gundham doesn't have anything he sets out to do with his life, at least nothing he voices in the final episode, so maybe he wanted to create a safe place for animals to live happily, and weaponizing them would cause him despair.

To explain away the disappearance of his hamsters, I think he released them as a final act of humanity and care for them. I think he knew that he'd be mistreating all the animals he held dear, and he wanted to give the hamsters a chance to escape. ESPECIALLY if he's going to be having snakes and birds around them, that's a recipe for the hamsters to be eaten.

I feel very bad for Mikan. She was the first one that fell to Junko's influence, the first one to be rewritten in such a way. She even watches the video a second time, which means she's probably one of the most far gone.

Like Nagito, Mikan is one of the three Remnants who took a body part from Junko's corpse. She took her uterus, and replaced her own with it, in hope's of carrying on Junko's legacy. She's also the one who probably attached the arm to Nagito, and the eye to Fuyuhiko.

In the final episode, Mikan says she wants to create a miracle cure for all diseases. As such, I can see her poisoning medical supplies, much like the real-life Tylenol Murders. She would probably hurt those who are sick and weak, and quite possibly experimented on people. As a medical professional, she was probably responsible for making sure the Remnants who frequented active combat against the Future Foundation were healthy and in peak condition.

I've also seen some people say she probably worked on ways to brainwash people through chemicals, and likely used captured Future Foundation soldiers as test subjects.

Akane and Nekomaru are the fighters of the group. They go out, and their main job is to cause as much stress for the Future Foundation as humanly possible. They're both heavy hitters, and that'd definitely be a hard thing for the Future Foundation to beat.

Akane's goal for her life simply boiled down to eating her fill of food, while Nekomaru said he would support everyone's dreams. I think he may have acted as support for the other's plans, kind of freelance depending on which Remnant required his services at the time.

We know one of the Remnants starved themselves, I believe it was Akane. Food brought her joy, so to cause despair she limited herself. In the anime, she's seen with abs, but I think they were just scared of showing her ribs. It's honestly a wonder that she would be able to fight at all. She fights with everything she's got, running off of despair, spite and mania.

Fuyuhiko and Peko occupy a similar area as Akane and Nekomaru. In fact, I think Nekomaru and Akane probably partnered with or joined Fuyuhiko's group of soldiers. All four of them fight against the Future Foundation, keeping their field agents on their toes and actively fighting against any sort of helpful effort by them.

In the final episode, Fuyuhiko says that he and Peko will lead the people in the Kuzuryu Clan down the right path, since he doesn't want to keep perpetuating violence. He wants them to get good educations and lead good lives. Peko says that she'd never kill again. For Peko to be actively fighting in battles across Japan, means she's actively causing the pain she didn't want to. Peko wants to be seen as more approachable, so to be one of the main Remnants in charge of causing chaos must be awful for her. For Fuyuhiko to take a step back and use the people in his clan to cause despair, he's also violating his life goals, and his want to not be reliant on the Kuzuryu Clan. It's the same reason he wants a degree of separation between himself and Peko in SDR2. He doesn't want to be seen as weaker, and he doesn't want to use the people around him.

Imposter is definitely an enigma character. There isn't much information about them when they're not in disguise as either Byakuya or Ryota (who deserves his own post, what I have to say may be a hot take). You can infer though, that they're actually a very caring person. When they notice Ryota engaging in unhealthy behaviors, they make sure that he eats and sleeps when required, and assumes his identity to give him a break. You can also see it in-game, where the more you hang out with them, the less they act like Byakuya, and more like a kind leader figure. Personally, I call Imposter Touya, since it sounds like a combo of "Two" and "Byakuya", and people already call them Twogami. It also means ''all the more, increasingly'' like their talent.

In the final episode, they aren't in disguise as anyone, and they say that they could become anyone they want, including the president. There's a strong desire within them to become their own person, to be seen for who they are, and not as the person they're impersonating.

It's intriguing, as in Remnant form, they're dressed like Byakuya. I think that Touya assumes the identities of various important figures in society, and infiltrates certain organizations whilst doing so. Since they're currently acting as Byakuya, I think Touya has infiltrated what's left of Togami Corporation, and is working to destroy their reputation. Maybe after Byakuya joins the Future Foundation, Touya tries to make it look like he's betraying them during different missions. Maybe that's why he's never out in the field unless it's absolutely necessary.

Teruteru Hanamura. I think there's a consensus on what we all agree he did while under despair. In the final episode, he says that he will feed everyone tons of nutritious food, and end world hunger. On top of that, he's someone who values his family a lot, especially his mother and siblings.

Teruteru is implied to use drugs in his food to make it taste better. It's an already disturbing theme with the food-oriented ultimates, with Ruruka using Seiko (the Ultimate Pharmacist) to enhance her sweets. In Teruteru's free time events, he feeds Hajime a simple rice ball, and Hajime leaves that interaction feeling like he's been drugged from how drowsy he is. Teruteru also keeps drugs around his food normally, evidence being the infamous soup scene. He may have poisoned his food, or used certain drugs to manipulate people to do bad things while in a weakened state of mind.

There's also an almost mutual agreement that I've seen in the fanbase, that he possibly turned his family into food. For how much he values them, I could definitely see that happening as a possibility, and it's such a terrible thought. For the life of me, I hope that isn't the case, and that Teruteru's mom and siblings are still out there in the world, ready to reunite with him once things have cooled down.

I've lumped Sonia and Mahiru together because this is the only picture of Mahiru as a Remnant. Anyways, starting with Mahiru, I think she traveled across the world, taking pictures of all the destruction and carnage as a result of the Tragedy. She likely also blackmailed high ranking officials and celebrities, bringing them under the thumb of Ultimate Despair and granting them more power over the general population.

In her free time events, Mahiru states that her mother was a war photographer. Her mom would go to scenes of destruction, take pictures, and sell them to news outlets. Mahiru says that, while she respects her mother, she doesn't want to take pictures of war. She wants to capture people's smiles and happy scenes of people living their lives. Going around and taking those sorts of pictures amidst the worst event in human history would definitely cause Mahiru despair. That can be seen in the picture as well, taking pictures of Sonia, likely declaring war or commencing public executions in her kingdom of Novoselic.

At the end of the final episode, Sonia says that she wants to make Novoselic into a peaceful kingdom, one with no wars. Once she becomes a Remnant, she forces her people to commit mass suicide, declares war on nearby countries, and executes people in her own country, supposedly including her parents so she may have sole power. The people who do not die in her initial takeover are likely added to the Novoselic army, serving under her and for her every whim. For someone who wanted to be seen as an equal by her peers, and not treated differently for her status, I can see her feeling very upset with herself knowing that she ruled her kingdom with tyranny and terror, and made people treat her as such a higher power.

Next is the girl group duo, Ibuki and Hiyoko. I think their combined abilities probably made the other's very potent, and its an interesting team-up. They aren't shown doing anything too bad, merely putting on an evil concert.

In the final episode, Ibuki says she wants to use her music to spread happiness, while Hiyoko says she wants to use dance to spread joy.

I don't really know what they would've done to spread despair. Maybe Hiyoko hit the griddy and it made people very upset. In actuality, I believe that Hiyoko probably employed methods similar to snake charmers, and managed to work in some form of hypnosis into her performances. That would be able to turn the masses against one another, and against other people.

Ibuki, on the other hand, definitely worked subliminal messages into her music, causing people to perform certain actions or think certain things for despair. Swifties but evil. Her music was probably also engineered to cause the most discomfort, with screeching guitar riffs and loud drums. Headaches and injuries would be prevalent at their concerts. I can also see Ibuki just smashing her guitar and wielding it as a weapon if facing off against Future Foundation members.

You can even hear a sample of her music on Spotify, since in the final episode of the anime, the rehabilitated Remnants go to help the trapped Future Foundation members, and she plays a song to incapacitate the brainwashed Future Foundation members. Listen if you dare!

It's finally time to talk about my BOY! I want to save some of my thoughts for his own post, and I honestly think this post is getting very long. For context, I started writing at 3pm, and it's now 10pm. Granted, I watched a movie and did some homework, but that's not the point here. I don't classify Izuru as a Remnant of Despair. I know he is one, but his circumstances are different. To understand Izuru, we need to start with Hajime.

Hajime starts the series as a reserve course student, someone with no talent, yet he idolizes Hope's Peak. He wants to be an ultimate so badly, that he'd do almost anything to do so. He has a bad habit of comparing himself to other people around him, basing his self-worth against theirs. So, in a school full of exceptional people, he's at an all time low. He has no friends, and feels like his goal is out of his reach. For as much as he wants to be an ultimate, we never get an idea of what he wants his ultimate to be. He has no plans for what it is, all he knows is he wants one. To feel important. To feel special. Because he doesn't see himself as anyone of worth.

He is approached by a group called the Steering Committee, which Tengan is loosely involved with. They propose the Kamukura Project to him, which is meant to give him a talent. He obviously really like this idea, but the idea of getting a talent artificially rubs him the wrong way. It's unknown if his parents know what's been proposed to him. One day, thinking by the fountain, he meets Chiaki, and they quickly become friends, bonding over video games. After that, they meet up regularly to game and talk by the fountain. One day, Fuyuhiko's little sister, Natsumi, ends up in his class, and he briefly meets her. Towards the end of the day, he finds her crying by herself, saying that she wants to be seen as the Ultimate Little Sister because Fuyuhiko only deserves the best in his life. Hajime starts to apply this to his friendship with Chiaki, believing he's not worthy of being her friend.

Still, he tries to keep his chin up and not let it bother him. He's hard-headed and hasn't been broken down yet. That's shattered when he tries to go to the ultimates course building for an important question (WATCH THE ANIME) and he gets beat up by Juzo. That very day, he meets with Chiaki, tells her to make tons of memories and have lots of fun for him, and then on, they never see each other again.

He accepts the Kamukura Project, and they begin at once. In the anime, it's done as a very quick procedure, but in real life, it'd be months and months of surgeries, mental conditioning, and medical tests. Soon, Hajime is completely erased from his mind, and is replaced by a figurative blank slate they name Izuru Kamukura. Interestingly, they call him Izuru Kamukura 1.0, implying there were supposed to be more after him. He was essentially a beta test, one that likely wasn't meant to make it this far. They likely expected him to die from the experimental procedures.

He is left on his own for days on end, until eventually Junko finds out about him. Her and Mukuro go to his little room, and try to get him to join despair. He initially declines, not seeing the purpose behind doing so. They invite him to the student council killing game, and there he feels some semblance of an emotion, so he continues. He is there, lurking in the background for many subsequent scenes.

The scene that is most important is Chiaki's death. She dies slowly in that scene, and Izuru is there, watching her. She recognizes him, reaching out towards him because he was her friend. At her death, he finds himself actually feeling something.

He's crying. Something he didn't think was possible. It is unknown if Hajime's repressed pain and despair was so powerful that it was finally felt in this moment, or if Izuru was just intrigued and confused by the idea of someone using their last moments to reach out to him. Nevertheless, he sticks with Junko's plans for despair, and is the reason she even ends up in SDR2. He's still effected by Chiaki's death long after this scene, expressing what can be confused for anger at the end of UDG when Junko starts to mock the way she'd greet him. He rips the wiring out of Shirokuma and Kurokuma's heads, taking only what he needs for the plan.

Izuru wasn't brainwashed, at least, not by Junko. The Kamukura Project deserves it's own post, but here's the rundown. He is supposed to be the Ultimate Everything, in peak physical and mental form. The surgeries needed to give him the strength capacity for the athletic ultimates would've involved breaking every bone in his body and rebuilding him from there, strengthening him enough to be able to launch Mukuro across the room with a flick of his hand. He would be injected with a cocktail of chemicals, made to increase mental abilities like memory, and possibly growth hormones for certain aspects of his body. That would explain why his hair is so incredibly long and dark, and why his eyes are red.

On the mental front, yes, he'd undergo numerous brain surgeries. Likely around the hippocampus and amygdala, they'd sever connections related to his original identity, which would also damage his ability to feel. Your emotional receptors are in those areas, and maybe ruining those sections were by design. After all, Hope's Peak is shady, and maybe they were trying to create some kind of unfeeling superweapon. Theory for another day. They left him near emotionless, with all the logical processing needed to complete any task needed, like a robot. They left him purposeless, craving entertainment of any kind. This makes him easier to use, easier to employ as a tool. If he is lacking purpose, he'd do anything you ask in order to feel anything other than emptiness. This is something Junko appeals to, since despair would be unpredictable and exciting for him.

I think he grows bored quickly, since after a while, anarchy becomes its own kind of order. There is still humanity in Izuru, he holds onto Chiaki's hairpin, and when Makoto finds him, he's nurturing a flower.

This scene is part of the reason why Makoto believes the Remnants are able to be saved. An unfeeling, despair-ridden monster wouldn't take the time to be so kind to something as small as a flower.

This scene is so moving when you watch it.

I think as a "Remnant", Izuru was merely an observer. I don't think he did anything except watch, only intervening when he felt it'd provide him some entertainment. Once he got bored, and only had Junko's USB stick plan, he'd probably find some way to make it easier for Makoto get everyone together, if only to enact that plan for that final bit of entertainment.

Is it obvious that I love Izuru?

Original Creator: Jayce Jole on YouTube

I spent a while learning psychology, and it's always been a big interest for me. Like with the factors pertaining to Izuru, the Remnants also have unique traits that explain why they act the way they act.

They were brainwashed by the subliminal messages that Ryota and Junko had placed in the video, that's why they're so deep in despair. But what is brainwashing? Brainwashing is a form of mental conditioning, that can essentially reprogram the mind to adopt radically different beliefs, ideas, and morals to the ones already carried by the victim. Brainwashing is not mind control, but it's conditioning.

They had their morals completely rewritten to align with Junko and despair. That's part of the reason I think Nagito is as different as he is. I think hope was such an engrained value within him, that he still holds onto despite his despair. The mental reprogramming is in constant conflict with his closely held beliefs.

There are many real examples of brainwashing, most notably within cults and real-life criminal organizations. They take advantage of vulnerable people, and make them change everything about themselves to align with these new ideas. Junko took advantage of their grief over seeing Chiaki die so gruesomely, and changed them fundamentally. They are not inherently evil people, they were not mind controlled into being evil people. They are people who were taken advantage of and conditioned into going against who they were. It's so saddening, they're teenagers, teenagers who should be going into job fields and colleges and living their lives, instead of terrorizing the world. Grief is a powerful, yet human emotion, and it's one that was easily controlled and manipulated by Junko. That's why Makoto took a chance on them as well. He didn't see the terrible people they had been turned into, he saw the hurt, grieving people underneath and wanted to help them.

It's also sickening how Junko only did all this so the Tragedy would carry on while she was masterminding the Hope's Peak killing game. The Remnants are nothing more than a backup plan to her, people she views as "not useful". They only exist to keep spreading despair while she is away, and that's sickening. She brainwashed them and not her own class, BECAUSE she doesn't value the Remnants. She cared about her classmates, so she wanted to feel the despair of watching them suffer. She merely saw the Remnants as tools, ruined their lives just for her own benefit.

I think there could have been an entire anime arc about them. Show Makoto, or Ryota, or some other character trying to rehabilitate them. How did they manage to track them down, and bring them to Jabberwock Island without dying or being discovered by the Future Foundation? How did they manage to stabilize them enough mentally to enter the Neo World Program? How did Izuru manage to get that USB stick past whoever was helping them? What were they like after waking up from the NWP with all their progress erased? If the survivors were normal, how did they handle seeing their friends in such a state? What impact did they do to the world? They could provide a clearer image of the Tragedy itself, which isn't really explored past Towa City, and even Towa City has only just recently been affected by the Tragedy. I think there's so much to explore, and so little attention actually given to them.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME YOUR ART, YOUR HEADCANONS, YOUR FICS, YOUR CONFESSIONS, YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS OF THE REMNANTS! I WILL EAT THEM UP LIKE I AM STARVED! I WILL SUP FROM THE WELL OF FANON AS IF IT IS THE FIRST DRINK OF WATER I'VE HAD IN DECADES! I NEED TO CONSUME EVERY BIT OF MEDIA ABOUT THEM!

I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal-

Anyways, after Dangantober is over, I may introduce my Danganronpa OC to this blog (not as a roleplay thing, but just to yap about him). Mainly, he's a former classmate of theirs, and he's part of their rehabilitation process because I NEED to chew on it like I'm teething.

Here is an edit I made of Chisa Yukizome, and the Remnants (it's short, it was my first one), to a Miss Delight edit audio. Please enjoy it, I was so proud when I finished it <3

Is it obvious now just how much I love the Remnants? They NEEDED more screentime, I'm not kidding on that front. Imagine everything that could've been explored, how much of their actions was the brainwashing, and how much was them acting out in twisted grief?

What did each person do while under despair? Was any guilt felt? How did they react after being rehabilitated? How are they living now with the knowledge of what they've done?

They were just grieving kids, kids who were taken advantage of and used for evil purposes. But I also agree that the Remnants are not blameless in their actions. They must live with this guilt forever, constantly on the run for what they've done, and yet, they have each other.

When I found out that UDG was SUPPOSED to be about facing the Remnants of Despair as either Makoto or Komaru, before it was changed to be the WOH, I was UPSET! Someone, PLEASE MAKE THAT A REAL GAME, I'D PAY YOU EVERYTHING IN MY WALLET AND BANK ACCOUNTS!

Make merch of the Remnants, all of them, not just the Servant pop-up parade and Izuru plushie.

[bitchymanlet]

Is Erwin Leftist or Fascist?

I'm basically expanding on what I've already posted on twitter about this.

The fandom seems to be pretty split on whether Erwin would be a Jaegerist or not—I've even seen fans going so far as to say he'd be a Trump supporter in the modern day. These could just be trolls or ignorant teenagers (both?) spewing this bs, but let's be clear,

Overthrowing the government does not indicate leftist or right-wing policy.

One of the most common rebuttals I see to the argument that Erwin is fascist is: "But he overthrew the government!" My guess is they think of revolutions by the people, such as the French and Russian ones, which were progressive, left-wing. But fascists do hostile takeovers too, such as the Blackshirts in Italy, and the January 6th Insurrection (the latter being a failed attempt at one).

Instead of using Erwin's staged coup as evidence that he is leftist, let's look into the reasons why he's Not Fascist.

He values intellectualism. We see in the text that Erwin supports and sees the value in Hange's titan research, and he believes the people deserve to know the truth, ie freedom of press—he was kept in the dark about the truth of their world, and he spent his whole life seeking the truth so that it could be shared with everyone. Fascists don't want thinkers, they want obedience.

Erwin allows those below his station to speak and think freely. We see how Levi, his subordinate, speaks to him informally and to other high-ranking military officials right in front of Erwin, but Erwin doesn't reprimand him or even punish him for his transgressions, because he respects him (an uneducated riffraff from the underground) as an equal. He allows 15 year old fresh out of the Cadet Corps Armin to speak up about his hunches, make suggestions, and he even let Armin give more experienced Scouts orders during their most pivotal battle in the history of the Survey Corps. He encourages his Scouts to question what they're fighting for and who their true enemies are rather than flat-out telling them. Unlike Fascists, he doesn't seem to enforce social hierarchy or genetic superiority of any kind.

He doesn't demonize The Other or motivate his soldiers with fear. He's doesn't rally his soldiers by proclaiming that humans are superior to titans and that they must crush them to assert humanity's dominance and superiority—he doesn't possess a hatred for titans like Eren does. He sees them more as obstacles to finding the truth. A core belief to fascists is proving that they are the chosen ones who will beat down the inhuman degenerates beneath them. He shows no sense of innate superiority.

We can't say for sure if he would be a Jaegerist because he died before all of that, but it is extremely unlikely given his aforementioned anti-fascist qualities. Why would he ever fall for Eren and Zeke's plot? Erwin is certainly smarter than Eren, but Zeke is a competent leader and strategist himself. However, what Zeke lacks that Erwin didn't is Hope. Erwin didn't give up on humanity like Zeke did, instead he valued and sought after knowledge. He saw failures and tragedies as learning opportunities and steps to a better outcome. Suffice it to say, he's not hateful or nihilistic enough to be on either of the Jaeger brothers' side, he'd think of a better solution than revenge or no babies.

So we can deduce that he is not a Fascist.

But is he a Leftist?

Back to the coup de'tat, Erwin staged it not to subjugate civilians, execute his opposers and instate military rule (what fascists do), but to live on to find the truth. That was it. Being a Scout granted him the freedom to venture outside of the walls and to learn more about their world and about the titans. If the Survey Corps dissolved and he got hanged, then the truth would possibly never come to light. The previous government would execute people for trying to leave and seek the truth. Erwin elevating Historia as the rightful monarch and, as a result, the people learning that the former monarch was a fake and that they have been lied to was just a nice bonus. Not why he did it.

There's little evidence for his personal political beliefs, as much of his character arc revolves around him Getting Closer To The Truth. If he were a leftist, he would show support for the common man's struggle and a disdain for the ruling class (like woke class-conscious king Levi). If his coup were politically motivated (in a progressive way), he would have started a revolution to free the people from the king's tyranny, he might have even called for the eradication of the crown altogether and touted democracy and the redistribution of wealth. Instead, he showed uncertainty and remorse for his coup, not confidence that he'd done the right thing for humanity's sake.

Again, Erwin was only saving his own skin so that he could find out what was in Eren's basement. He didn't feel strongly about dismantling the system and creating a more equitable government, which would be leftist. Rather, he feels more comfortable with upholding the status quo while also maintaining individual liberty.

Ergo, based on canon events, I don't think Erwin is a leftist or a fascist, I think he's a liberal.

[starsfic]

Missing Meeting

Summary: Frankie's missing a meeting to throw stuff at the Contestant.

Notes: Introducing my first workplace comedy OC, Maddy Faustina! Her name was randomly generated. She's Frankie's secretary.

-_-

Maddy Faustina was a simple woman.

She liked knowing what was going on and how it affected the schedule. Having her boss overthrown by a cartoon AI that had the attitude of an angry, sadistic toddler and the following death games had thrown her life off-balance, but, strangely, things didn't change much for her personally in her work life at Frankie's. Mr. Ellie looked like a wreck at every staff meeting, but considering his arrogant personality before, it was a nice change. Hey, they were even doing good for the first time in a while!

"Uh, Miss Faustina? Do you happen to know where Frankie is?" Mr. Ellie had poked his head out of the small side office he had been booted to after the takeover. "We were supposed to have a meeting fifteen minutes ago."

"Huh, that's strange." For all her complaints about Frankie's attitude and overall hatred of humanity, he was at least punctual. "I'm afraid I haven't seen him, Mr. Ellie."

He frowned, the nerves disappearing from his face. "I wonder if he's at the parkour palace. Call them up."

Several questions popped up. The first one was there's working phones there? She knew that there was toy phones in Henry Hotline's section, but an actual phone? "Uh...may I ask what he would be doing over there?"

Mr. Ellie shrugged as he retreated back into his office. "Throwing stuff at the Contestant, most likely."

Ah. Right. The reason why they weren't going bankrupt was also the thorn on Frankie's side. Maddy wasn't exactly sure why they were such a big thorn, but Maddy wasn't paid to dwell on that.

It took a few minutes to hunt down the number. Maddy typed it in and waited as it rang...and it rang...and it rang...

"Hello, this is Frankie's Parkour Palace, the largest indoor trampoline, water, and parkour park! How may I help you?"

It took her a second to realize that the voice wasn't a recording of her boss talking. To be fair, not many people had known about "Real" Frankie until the 57th season. "Um, hello? This is Maddy Faustina from the main corporate building. I was wondering if Mr. Frankie is there? He's late for a meeting with Mr. Ellie."

There was a pause and then there was a faintly muffled "I knew things had been too quiet." Before she could ask him to speak up, the cheerful, bordering on maniac, voice grew louder. "Apologies! I believe he's here, but I'm not quite sure where...ah!" There was a pause and then a sigh. "They're throwing stuff at each other...please give me a moment. Unfortunately, the intercom has not been installed in that space, so I will have to take you directly to him!"

"No worries," Maddy said, unsure of what else to say. She didn't expect Mr. Ellie's guess to be literal.

There was a long silence, filled with the sounds of shuffling and an elevator. Faint music soon met her ears, and then louder noises.

Swooshing. Faint growling. A loud cackle, followed by a BANG that made her jump.

"Is everyone alright?" she called.

"Oh, everyone is perfectly fine, our dear contestants are just playing a little rough." The "Real" Frankie assured her before pulling away from the phone. "EXCUSE ME! There's a call for you!"

The noises paused, followed by talking that was too hushed to make out before a similarly cheerfully maniac voice spoke, echoing off whatever room they were in. "Hellooo, Miss Faustina! How can I help you?"

"Uh, Mr. Ellie requested that I call since you are running late for you two's three o'clock meeting."

There was a chuckle. "Oh dear," Frankie said, not even bothering to hide the delight in his voice. "I'm so sorry! I'll buzz over right now since he's so concerned. Thank you, my dear, you're such a doll!"

"...You're welcome?"

The other side went silent and in the office next door, there was a screech. There was some more shuffling on the other side of the call and a voice she did not recognize spoke. "Uh, he left. Hope you have a good day?"

Oh. This must be...

"You too." Maddy hung up and sat there for a second, staring at the email she had been drafting.

She wondered if the Contestant would be interested in joining the employee game nights.

[theblackfemininesociety]

B.F.S Spring Lookbook:

Hey Besties! Spring vibes are hitting different this year, and The Black Feminine Society is all about that fresh, fly wardrobe reset. We're mixing up the style game with our latest Spring Lookbook: Classy Elevated Casual. It's where comfort meets chic, and where every Black woman can find her vibe and flaunt it. Let's get into the trends that are about to dominate your Insta profiles.

Say Bye to Basics: Flowy Pants & Trousers Takeover

Leggings and sweatpants, step aside. 2023 is all about those breezy, flowy pants and trousers that scream "I woke up like this" elegance. Picture yourself in airy wide-legs that catch the breeze or statement prints that pop for that perfect OOTD post. Pair 'em with a snug tank or an oversized tee, and you've got that effortlessly cool look down.

Shorts + Blazers & Button-Ups = Game Changer

Rethink everything you knew about shorts. This spring, we’re elevating this staple with sleek blazers and sharp button-ups for that ultimate power move. It’s about creating a look that’s as ready for a café hangout as it is for that Zoom call. Aim for high-waist picks and get playful with textures and prints to really stand out.

Long Pleated Skirts: A Must Have !

The long pleated skirt is having its moment and it's not hard to see why. These beauties add a level of sophistication and fun to any look, swaying with you with every step. Dress them up with a fitted top for that silhouette-snatching effect or go casual with a simple tucked-in tee. Pleated skirts are all about versatility and statement-making this season

Maxi Dresses: The Ultimate Classy Flex

Maxi dresses are here to claim their throne as the go-to for that flawless transition from day to night. We're talking flowy fabrics that feel like a second skin, patterns that demand attention, and cuts that flatter every body type. Whether you're channeling beach goddess vibes or city chic, a maxi dress is your secret weapon.

Accessorize to Maximize

The right accessories can take your outfit from 0 to 100 real quick. This spring, it's all about making statements with bold jewelry, killer shades, and bags that pack a punch. Think of accessories as the exclamation point to your outfit – they're there to make your look pop and show off your unique style. So, layer up those necklaces, stack those bracelets, grab your cutest silk scarf and let your personality speak through your fashion style this season!

Spring 2023 is calling, and it's all about embracing that Classy Elevated Casual aesthetic. You're B.F.F, The Black Feminine Society is here to inspire you to mix it up, try new combos, and own your style with confidence. Remember, it's not just about the clothes; it's about how you wear them. So let's make this season about expressing your femininity in the most authentic, trend-setting ways. Let's do this, Spring!

Follow us on social media!

INSTAGRAM • FACEBOOK • DISCORD

[missholloween]

It might've been because of plot reasons, but Mark, Dylan, Irving and Helly's outies should have met outside because of how fast they go down in the elevator.

That only raises more questions, though: what did they tell them about their innies takeover? How did they convince Dylan and Irving to come back? Do they know about what the others did? And what about Helena, did they talk to her or avoid her as an Eagan? Did Mark tell her anything, after becoming more critical with Lumon in season 1?

I need to see the outside world please, I love the limited POV and feeling like the innies, but I also love answers.

[dangermousie]

I see a lot of people disappointed by ep 15 of QoT/saying it's gone downhill but I got to say for me, it's actually incredibly consistent throughout from ep 1 to ep 15 - a fun, brain-dead, elevated by great acting makjang.

If you want a character examination of a relationship or even a solid, plotholeless piece of nuanced writing, QoT is not that and to me it never was.

I mean, yeah the amount of nonsense in ep 15 is huge - from how bad dude gets custody of her or that apparently it's set in 1824 instead of 2024 since internet and its eternal memory does not exist, but how is it different from the fact that the takeover was able to be accomplished the way it did or the magic illness and magic surgery or that not realistic in any way family or really anything else?

The acting ranges from solid to amazing, the chemistry is great, the budget is sizeable but it never really was anything but an upmarket version of Escape of the Seven or Perfect Marriage Revenge or Temptation of an Angel or other makjangs. Perhaps Secret is a better comparison in some ways - A list actors, big hit, makjang as hell plot. Realism and reality and not a thing in that genre though so I am never phased by all the insanity (but never too invested either.)

[ladyzayismultifandom]

King of Second Chances

DomesticAvengers!Loki x Reader

Genre/Rating: tooth-rotting fluff with best friends to lovers

Description: Contrary to popular belief, Loki does have friends... just not on Asgard. Or Midgard. Except one.

After the battle of New York, Frigga managed to convince Odin one last time to have mercy on his adoptive son Loki who recently found that out in his defense but in no way can explain his revenge hostile attempted takeover of Midgard aka Earth. Odin decided that if some time on Earth managed to teach Thor the lesson he needed to learn to be worthy of the hammer, then Earth should be able to do the same for Loki.

So until he proves that he's not the evil ego-maniac that's co-dependent on the lie his father told him about being destined for greatness when he was a peace offer child, Loki is to stay on Earth.

Specifically in Avengers Tower under close surveillance.

None of the team especially Clint and Natasha wanted him there but they couldn't trust him living on his own with some of his magic still intact. So down the hall from Thor's room soon became Loki's room and they all lived happily ever after. Sort of

"Loki did you eat my Poptarts?"

"And why would I eat those disgusting sugar-coated sandwiches?'

"Because you know I like them?"

"Out" Thor suddenly falls through a hole Loki created sending him back to his room.

Loki looked up at the vents to make sure Clint wasn't in them before relaxing back in his bed with the book before he was once again interrupted by a knock on his door. He rolls his eyes begrudgingly before swinging the door open with a wave of his hand.

"Hey, Loki..."

"Yes, Y/N," Loki says not caring to lift his head away from his book.

"Can I hide my pop tarts in here? Thor keeps eating them."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I know you don't like them so Thor won't look for them here." Unable to argue with that, Loki shrugged.

"Very well. Hide them here"

"Yes!" you jumped onto his bed and hugged him tightly to you shocking the magical entity to his core.

"Thank you, Loki," you shock him again by giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

".... You're welcome"

This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Two years has gone by since then and while Loki is still not welcome back in Asgard he has regained almost all of his magical abilities, has been caught trying to go back twice, and with Frigga's help made his room in Avengers tower look almost identical to his chambers in the palace. One would say that he's gotten comfortable on Earth.

Loki still hides your Pop-Tarts in his room and several other things you don't want the team to see despite your room being one floor below his. The only ones who dare go in his room are you and sometimes Thor but he uses an illusion spell to make your stuff look like his so there is no suspense. You could have asked him to do that for your room but having some of your things in his room gives you the excuse to see him and everybody knows that. Except Loki of course.

After another successful mission with Natasha and her sister that she never mentioned until now you were back in Avengers Tower and you couldn't wait to tell your bestie all about it.

"LOKI!!!!" You burst through his door to find a towel around his waist and hair. His chest still had some water dripping down to a place that you didn't realize you'd want to see until now. Shit you're staring

"Um, I'll come back" You quickly closed the door and headed straight to the elevator. If anyone saw how you repeatedly pushed the close doors button they'd think you insane. You quickly went into your own room and let out the breath you had been holding only to open your eyes to-

"You know you were much cuter when you were afraid to knock on my door." You jumped holding your hand to your chest wishing your heart could just calm down but the man you just ran away from clearly transported to your room.

"I see you gained more of your magic back."

"One of my favorite tricks." Loki held up a bag of sweets. He patted the spot next to him on your bed and it was like you never left. You happily jumped into his arms. Let the celebration begin.

“So Agent Romanoff wasn’t alone before Barton came around. Interesting. Hit me” He opened his mouth and you gave him another caramel candy. Something you like to do when debriefing your missions with him is to eat sweets and comb his hair. He’ll never admit it but hearing your voice with your hands massaging his scalp made him feel like a King.

“I know right?! I can’t believe she’s been hiding that from us this whole time. I thought we’d run out of secrets in Avengers Tower by now. What about you?”

“Mm that feels nice” he whispered to himself not paying attention. You took a curl of his and wrapped it around your finger before yanking harder than usual.

“Ow!” He looked up at you

“Now that I have your attention what did you do while I was gone?” You held up your brush threateningly at him. Chuckling he laid his head back down in your lap closing his eyes without any sign of fear.

“I read, painted, slept, squabbled with my oaf of a brother, the usual.”

“Do you ever think the two of you will be as close as you were back then?”

“I’m not sure. I did try to kill him after all but he does try. I’ll give him that.”

“You tried to kill me too” You mumbled

“You’re different.”

“How different?” You continue brushing his hair slowly. Like a cat he purrs.

“You are… kind in a way that’s admirable and naive yet you hunt people for a living. It’s confusing.” You gently take his head in your hands staring right into his emerald green eyes.

“Are you saying I should consider a new career path?”

“I’m saying you are the most dangerous being in the nine realms.” He whispered.

“And your best friend” You whispered back coming a little closer.

“My only friend” The two of you smile at each other.

“Jarvis please tell me you got that” The two of you sat up quickly embarrassed that you’d been caught by Tony in what would look like two lovers staring into each others eyes even though you were nothing more than friends. Right? Without a thought you chased Tony all around the tower with your brush desperately trying to get that footage of the two of you.

Unsure of when it started Loki realized that the beautiful friendship that once was had blossomed into something else entirely. He was bound to mess it up but he knew you’d give him a second chance. He is the king of those after all and you are worth all the chances he can get.

A/N: Happy Loki day! I was supposed to post this the other day but I didn’t know what I wanted to write yet. Thanks for your patience. There’s more to come!

[kallie-den]

Lifestyle Takeover Ch. 2

Vivienne is drawn to Mel's side by her curiosity regarding Emma - but in the presence of her favorite bimbo, will she be able to stop herself from slipping under Mel's sway?

This is a commission from Neana, and a sequel to Lifestyle Journalism! Previous chapters can be found under the same tag

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I  write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

—

Why was she here?

Vivienne Gilbert kept turning that question over in her head as the elevator slowly carried her up toward Melanie Adams’s penthouse. There was nothing particularly strange about the sequence of events that had brought her here. Early that morning, one of her mindless personal assistants had put a call from Mel Adams through. Mel had invited Vivienne to her apartment to continue their talks. Vivienne had accepted - and now, here she was.

But… why?

Why had Vivienne accepted the invitation? Why had she even taken the call? There was nothing for them to talk about. Vivienne had already given that irritating nepo baby her final answer: there was no way in hell she was going to let her mothers acquire Vivienne’s company. So why had she come here?

There were lots of possible reasons, of course. Foremost amongst them was idle curiosity. Maybe Vivienne simply wanted to see more of Mel and the way she lived. Or perhaps she suspected Mel had an improved proposal for her. Possibly, it was a ploy. There were all kinds of ways in which dragging out negotiations could serve her interests.

And yet, deep down, Vivienne knew none of those things had motivated her decision. On the phone, Mel had been insistent - and Vivienne had ended up saying ‘yes’. It was as simple as that. For most people, that might have been completely innocuous. But Vivienne feared it was something as dangerous as it was humiliating: a moment of weak will.

Vivienne Gilbert did not - could not - suffer moments of weak will.

And that prompted another fear: the fear that she had been compromised. Conceivably, Melanie Adams could have found some way to bring Vivienne under her psychological influence. Efforts like that were practically routine between hypnogarchs. Vivienne herself had dealt with more than one rival using mind control. Like all rising hypnogarchs, she had defenses - but all defenses had their potential weak points. So what if…

Vivienne shook her head to snap herself out of it. No. It was impossible. Vivienne was made of steel, and Mel was nothing more than an over-sheltered whelp. There was absolutely no way Melanie Adams had gotten into her head.

Ultimately, Vivienne decided that there had to be a far more benign explanation: she’d accepted the call and the invitation because she was in a good mood. And she was in a good mood because of Emma’s personalized video.

Ever since last night, when she’d received a private, cheerleader-themed thank-you video from her absolute favorite OnlyFans star, Vivienne had been on cloud nine. She couldn’t have asked for a greater gift, or a better way to relax. After listening to that video, the rest of the evening had passed by in a pleasant, stress-free haze. All Vivienne remembered was that she’d spent most of it working out some pent-up physical need.

Not the most dignified way for a high-powered CEO to spend her time, perhaps. But a very, very welcome way.

In fact, Vivienne had done the same thing that very morning, before dragging herself out to Mel’s building. It was a rare indulgence, but one she just hadn’t been able to resist. She didn’t regret it either, even if it had left her just a touch disheveled and more than a touch late. Watching Emma’s video again had put her in a delightfully pleasant, upbeat, relaxed - and slightly horny - mood.

One of these days, she was determined to focus hard enough to pay attention to Emma’s words all the way through.

But there would be time for that later. For now, Vivienne just needed to get her head off her pillow so she could make the most of this little meeting.

By hypnotizing Melanie Adams.

Whatever the reason she’d agreed to come here, Vivienne had made up her mind not to leave empty-handed. She touched her hand to the outside of her suit’s jacket pocket, and felt the familiar outline of her pocket watch within. It seemed only fair. If Melanie Adams wanted to play power games, she was going to find out just how much it was possible to lose. Vivienne doubted the trust fund brat had any real defenses, and having their daughter under her sway would make taking on her mothers that much easier.

She’d hardly be Vivienne’s first conquest. She relished opportunities to get her hands dirty. This one was going to be easy.

Her confusion and doubt set aside, a thin smile came to Vivienne’s face as the elevator arrived at the top floor. She stepped out of it and presented herself at the door to Mel’s penthouse suite. Immediately, it opened, and once Vivienne saw who was there to greet her, her smile dissolved into an expression of open-mouthed shock.

It was Emma.

The Emma. Emma, the OnlyFans model Vivienne adored. Emma, the woman she’d spent all night and all morning frantically getting herself off to. Emma, the glorious bimbo she’d only ever expected to see through a screen, on a website - only now she was here, in the flesh, flashing Vivienne a brilliant, winning, ditzy smile.

“Hi!” Emma said, voice irrepressibly bright and bouncy. “You’re… um… Mel’s guest, right?”

Vivienne nodded dumbly.

“Well, what are you just standing there for, silly?” Emma giggled after a moment. “Hurry up and, like, come in!”

Without speaking another word, Vivienne nodded and followed Emma inside. The whole time, her mind was racing. Half of it was frenzied speculation. Why was Emma here? What was the nature of her association with Melanie Adams? Had she brought her here for Vivienne? How did they know about her fascination with Emma? What should she do? Should she say something? Ask?

The other half was equally frenzied fangirling.

It’s Emma. It’s actually Emma. The Emma. My Emma. Oh god. She’s right there. She’d said ‘hi’ to Vivienne. Vivienne could reach out and touch her if she wanted to. Would she sign something for her? Oh god. She’s so hot. She’s even hotter in person. Oh god. Oh god.

She really was even hotter in person. Looking at her on a screen, in a highly polished piece of video content, it was easy to gloss over Emma’s sheer physical perfection. Her clear skin, her sleek, blonde hair, her perfect, hourglass figure, and the hints of toned muscle underneath - all of it was truly unbelievable. Vivienne found it hard not to be dazzled by Emma’s raw beauty and sex appeal. Her outfit - a simple sundress, albeit one that was cut low and very, very short - was far less salacious than the kind of slutty workout clothes Vivienne usually saw her in, but that didn’t make Emma any less stunning. If anything, it enhanced her allure - plus, there was something utterly precious about getting to see her like this: casual, domestic, offhanded.

Just like the video, it was something none of Emma’s other fans would ever get to see.

Vivienne was suddenly, overwhelmingly grateful for Mel’s invitation.

“Vivienne!” Melanie Adams rose to her feet as Emma led Vivienne into the living area of the apartment. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Of course,” Vivienne replied, because she didn’t know what else to say.

As she watched, Emma rushed to Mel’s side and stretched up to kiss her cheek, a big, dumb grin on her face. Envy hit Vivienne like a wave - and she wasn’t even sure who she was jealous of.

An instant later, her corporate instincts kicked in. She couldn’t let it show. Her envy, her desire - any of it. Not even the fact that she knew who Emma was.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Vivienne added, before nodding toward the bimbo. “And… who’s this?”

Silently, she prayed her voice didn’t sound as robotic out loud as it did in her head.

“Oh, this?” Mel’s grin was wide and proud as she slipped her arm around Emma’s waist. “This is my lover - and my pet. Emma.”

Emma let out a sickeningly sweet giggle and pressed herself to Mel’s side. Their body language, the looks on their faces - it was obvious they were in love. And from Emma’s videos, Vivienne knew there was only one person Emma felt this way about.

Which meant Melanie Adams, her corporate enemy, was Emma’s mysterious mistress.

For a moment, Vivienne was speechless. Her instincts screamed at her that something was wrong, but she suppressed them. Her security and anonymity were perfect. There was no way that anybody could know, least of all Mel. There was no reason for anyone to even suspect. This was all just one big coincidence.

But, god, what a coincidence.

“Pleased to meet you,” Vivienne said stiffly.

“You too!” Emma sang out, and her voice was so bright and carefree, Vivienne couldn’t help but freeze in her tracks as words from the video came back to her.

One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!

Vivienne blinked. She needed to focus.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Mel suggested.

She gestured to one of their couches, clustered around a coffee table. Vivienne obligingly sat herself down at one; Mel sat at the next couch over, and Emma immediately went to perch beside her owner.

“So,” Vivienne said deliberately. “What did you wish to speak with me about?”

Mel held up a hand. “First things first: refreshments. It’s the least I can do, after dragging you over here. Would you like something?”

Vivienne shook her head. “No, that’s-“

“Hey, doll,” Mel interrupted, turning to Emma. “Bring us out some glasses and a pitcher of water.”

"OK!”

Emma sprung to her feet once more, and headed towards the kitchen. Normally, Vivienne would have bristled at having her objection brushed aside so casually, but the simple sight of Emma walking away from her silenced any complaint she might have raised.

Her ass. It took the words right out of her.

In just a few moments, Emma returned, with glasses and a pitcher set on a tray. She smiled at Vivienne as she set it down on the coffee table before handing out the glasses and pouring each of them a glass of water.

Vivienne’s mouth went dry as Emma bent at the waist in front of her to pour her drink. She could see down Emma’s dress. All the way down. And the bimbo wasn’t wearing a bra. It was all Vivienne could do to keep her eyes from bulging. Emma’s plump, round tits bounced and jiggled with her every slightest motion, and beneath those, Vivienne could even make out the outlines of Emma’s toned abs. The camera truly didn’t do her body justice.

“Vivienne?” Mel prompted. “You were saying?”

Vivienne blinked. She scolded herself for getting distracted. “I was just…” She frowned. “No, you were telling me why you invited me here.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Mel just kept smiling. “Well, it’s simple. Like I told you yesterday, I think we really do have a lot in common. I was hoping I might persuade you to see it that way too, if we spent a little time together.”

“Please.” Vivienne snorted derisively. “You just want to persuade me to sell out to your mothers.”

“I won’t insult you by denying an ulterior motive,” Mel replied. “But I can’t force the legendary Vivienne Gilbert to do something she doesn’t want to do. You have nothing to lose - and everything to gain, if you come to see how mutually beneficial some of our proposals can be.”

“Not likely.” Vivienne pursed her lips. This was a waste of time, and she had plenty on her table. Under normal circumstances, she might have simply stood up and left. But…

Once again, Vivienne found herself glancing at Emma.

“But,” she said slowly, “perhaps you’re right. It’s not often I get to enjoy a casual drink with another woman of our station.”

“Right!” Mel beamed at her. “It should be fun.”

Vivienne nodded as she sipped at her water. Her inner fangirl couldn’t help but want to spend more time in Emma’s presence. And beyond that, she was desperate to know how an inexperienced mind-controller like Mel came to own such a wonderfully trained and presented bimbo.

“Well,” Vivienne said, for want of something to say, “if you have proposals, I may as well look at them. I assume you’ve improved your offer?”

“Of course,” Mel told her. “Anything less would be churlish. Emma, the papers on my desk.”

“Sure thing!” Emma announced, as she bounced to her feet. She soon returned with a stack of papers, but before she could present them to Vivienne, they slipped out of her grasp and ended up scattered across the ground.

“Emma!” Mel scolded, although none too harshly.

“Oopsie!” Emma squealed bashfully. “Sorry! I’m, like, sooo clumsy sometimes.”

Vivienne felt her cheeks starting to glow pink. She couldn’t help it. Emma was just so cute.

“Pick those up,” Mel ordered. “Quickly.”

“Yes, Mel!” Emma chirruped.

She fell down onto her hands and knees, and started scrambling to gather up all the sheets of paper she’d dropped. This time, Emma was largely facing away from Vivienne, but that didn’t make the spectacle any less mouth-watering. As the bimbo bent over, the hem of her sundress rode up over her hips, exposing her ass. Vivienne utterly failed to avert her eyes as it swayed from side to side every time Emma moved.

Somehow, Emma managed to make even picking up papers look both sexy and joyful.

Maybe it was the damp spot of wetness staining her panties.

“Here!” Emma announced after a moment, looking up. “I think I got them all.”

“Oh, babe.” Mel laughed indulgently. “Put them in the right order too.

“Right!” Emma giggled again. “Good idea!”

Emma set the papers down on the floor and started sorting them, peering at each of the page numbers in turn. The sorting, though, wasn’t what had Vivienne spellbound.

It was the way that the damp spot on her panties grew when Mel told Emma what to do.

Vivienne shivered. That kind of pleasure-obedience conditioning was routine. Vivienne herself had done that to dozens of women. But here? Now? It was mesmerizing.

She needed to pull herself together, but instead, she was thinking about last night’s video again. How wet had Emma been under that cheerleader outfit while she’d been chanting?

“Here!” Emma said as she rose to her feet and handed Vivienne the papers. Vivienne took a drink of her water to cover her embarrassment.

“Thank you,” she replied, and made a show of looking at the proposals in her hand. In that moment, she couldn’t imagine anything less able to hold her attention than a bunch of numbers and figures.

“So?” Mel asked, after a moment. “What do you think?”

“I…” Vivienne tried to make herself focus. It didn’t work. All she could think about was Emma. “Well, I’ll have to get my analysts to run some of these numbers for themselves.”

“Of course.” Mel nodded gracefully. “There’s no rush. And honestly, where are my manners? Forcing all this business on you right away. I’m sure we can find something more interesting to occupy us.”

Vivienne nodded agreeably. She made to sip at her water again - only to realize her glass was already empty. Mel noticed right away.

“Emma, please give our guest a refill.”

“Sure!”

“No, that’s really not- oh!”

Instinctively, Vivienne went to wave Emma off, but Emma had already sprung into motion. In the brief mismatch of intentions, Emma’s hand slipped, and she ended up spilling water from the pitcher all over herself.

“Emma!” Mel sounded mortified, although she was still smiling. “You’re so clumsy today.”

“Oh my gosh!” Emma gasped. “I’m, like, so so sorry! Did I get any on you?”

“That’s alright,” Vivienne said faintly. Having her favorite model apologize to her was such a strange experience. “I don’t think you-“

She paused as she looked down and noticed two things. Firstly, a small stain on one of her pant legs. And secondly, the way Emma’s soaked dress was turning translucent.

It made for quite the sight.

“Here.” Emma was already surging forward, a cloth in her hand. “Let me clean you up.”

Before Vivienne could stop her, Emma was on her knees in front of her, lightly patting at her clothing. Vivienne felt faint. It was practically a dream come true. She couldn’t believe that Emma, of all people, was fussing over her like this.

“There!” Emma giggled after a moment. “All good.” She looked up. “Did I, like, splash you somewhere else?”

I don’t think so, Vivienne was about to say. But the fawning, adoring look in Emma’s big, gorgeous vacant eyes stole her breath away. She desperately needed to compose herself. And as soon as possible, she needed to watch that video again so she could work out some of this frustration.

One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!

“Amazing, isn’t she?” Mel asked. A strange grin was on her face.

“W-what?” Vivienne started, embarrassed.

“Emma.” Mel nodded to her bimbo as Emma rose and went to sit back down beside her. “You seem quite taken with her.”

“I…” Vivienne’s mind raced as she searched for something she could say. “She’s… a fine specimen,” she grasped, after a moment. “Your handiwork?”

“I had a little help, at first,” Mel admitted. “But I like to think I’ve been taking good care of her ever since.”

“Certainly,” Vivienne found herself saying. She couldn’t bring herself to utter a word against Emma’s condition - and besides, there were a thousand questions she wished she could ask.

“I’m surprised, I admit,” Mel commented. “I noticed your tastes seemed to skew a little more, well, secretarial.”

"It’s true,” Vivienne acknowledged, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate other angles.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to convince you,” Mel said wryly, before looking at Emma with an expression of great fondness. “I think bimbos like Emma are just wonderful.”

"That’s your specialty?” Vivienne asked. She was hanging on Mel’s every word. She needed to know how Mel had made Emma so perfect.

“Yes, I think so,” Mel mused. “I just can’t help it. It’s how happy they are. Know what I mean?”

Vivienne nodded. She’d never cared much about the happiness of her brainwashed peons, but there was something undeniably charismatic about Emma’s irrepressibly upbeat demeanor.

“I think of it like a gift,” Mel went on. “A blessing, really. I love that, with Emma, I could take away everything that was troubling her. Every worry. Every care. Every source of stress or doubt. And in their place? Nothing but simple joy - and one simple purpose: us.”

Emma was just sitting there next to her, smiling and humming, as if the conversation was going straight over her head. Vivienne was captivated.

“Sometimes I wonder about how it must feel,” Mel said. “Don’t you?”

“No,” Vivienne lied. “Of course not.”

Yes. The question had started occurring to her ever since she’d discovered Emma. That morning, it had been on her mind constantly. The mindset of a giggly bimbo like Emma was completely antithetical to Vivienne. The curiosity was only natural.

At least, that was what she told herself.

“I imagine it must be wonderful,” Mel said thoughtfully. “I mean, just look how happy she is.”

Vivienne frowned. “It’s undignified. Humiliating.”

“Not to her,” Mel countered. “Things like dignity never even cross her mind. She’s just happy. Aren’t you, Emma?”

For the first time, Emma tuned into their words. “Yes, Mel!” she replied brightly.

“That’s part of it,” Mel continued. “Being able to cast aside preconceived values like those. Wouldn’t that be a thrill? Wouldn’t that be liberating, even?”

"I hardly think…” Vivienne hesitated. She found herself thinking about Emma, on the video, jumping and cheering. Hadn’t she seemed so free?

Hadn’t Vivienne felt free, cheering along with her?

“I’m sure it feels amazing,” Mel decided. “Nothing to worry about. No stress. No responsibility. Isn’t that all the more appealing, to women like us? Hypnogarchs, I mean. We have so much weight on our shoulders. We need to be on guard all the time. It’s so exhausting, isn’t it?”

Vivienne really did feel exhausted. She hadn’t had as much sleep as usual. When she spoke, she had to fight to suppress a yawn. “It’s part of the game, Mel. If you don’t like it, all you have to do is give up playing.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Mel just smiled disarmingly at her. “Come on. You can tell me. There’s no one here to listen - well, except Emma, and she’s not telling. It gets to you too, doesn’t it? It must. Beneath the whole ‘woman of steel’ public image, you’re just as human as the rest of us.”

“Of course,” Vivienne had to concede.

She glanced at Emma. The bimbo was just staring at her, eyes wide and eager and guileless. It was like she wanted to hear Vivienne’s answers.

“Then even you can see the appeal.” Mel’s voice was surprisingly nice to listen to; Vivienne hadn’t noticed that at first. “You’re a rising star, Vivienne. Even you must have moments when you wonder if you’re good enough.”

“I…” Vivienne wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“I know I do,” Mel offered. “My mothers have these sky-high expectations of me. It’s crazy. There’s so much to think about and manage. So, sometimes, when I’m watching Emma, and she’s working out, or stretching, or posing for the camera, I can’t help but be a little jealous.”

Vivienne found herself nodding.

“Yesterday, she was recording some video - for her OnlyFans, I guess,” Mel mentioned offhandedly. “And she was chanting something so silly! What was it… ‘One! Two! One! Two! Emma’s the only one for you!’ Something like that, anyway.”

Vivienne shivered involuntarily. Her cheeks started to turn pink.

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Mel laughed. “But just imagine being able to say something like that to all those people, without a single reservation or inhibition. Without being smart enough to worry. When I think about it like that, it makes me wonder if Emma’s the real winner in our dynamic. You know?”

Once more, Vivienne nodded.

“One! Two! One! Two!” Mel chanted half-heartedly, a bemused look on her face. She rolled her eyes indulgently at Emma, before suddenly turning to Vivienne. “Hey, why don’t you try it?”

Vivienne almost choked. She shook her head. “What? No.”

“Come on,” Mel needled. “I already embarrassed myself with it! It’s more fun than you think. Right, Emma?”

“Totally!” Emma agreed at once. “You gotta give it a try!”

“Well…” Vivienne found herself hopelessly weak to Emma’s pleading. And besides, the cheer was already on the tip of her tongue, begging to be spoken. She already knew how good they could feel. What was the harm in it? “Fine.” She allowed herself a thin smile. “But just once.”

“Yay!” Emma cheered. Vivienne’s smile widened. Emma’s enthusiasm was infectious. As she and Mel watched, Vivienne sat up and cleared her throat:

“One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!”

She froze. It wasn’t just the words - although the fact that the other chant had slipped out certainly was mortifying. It was also the sheer, unmistakably excitement that filled her voice as she chanted. She hadn’t sounded like a powerful CEO begrudgingly indulging an acquaintance. She’d sounded like she was having the time of her life.

She’d sounded like Emma.

As Vivienne blushed, both Emma and Mel simply clapped and cheered. That didn’t help with the embarrassment, even if the bright smile on Emma’s face did fill Vivienne with a warm glow.

“’Emma’s the only one for me’,” Mel quoted, grinning. “That’s good. That’s really good.”

“I didn’t mean…”

Vivienne paused. Her denials just made her sound weak. Saving face in front of Melanie Adams didn’t matter. What mattered was getting a grip on herself. Vivienne still couldn’t afford to be so scatterbrained in front of a rival hypnogarch, even a mere wannabe like Mel. It was Emma’s video. It had to be. She’d been listening to it far too much, without enough sleep. It had left her exhausted and distracted. Even now, she could hear the words echoing over and over in her head.

One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!

It was ridiculous. Vivienne needed to focus. She needed to assert herself properly. And she knew the perfect way.

Vivienne slipped a hand into her pocket and wrapped her fingertips around her watch.

“You know, Mel,” Vivienne began, pushing Emma’s silly cheer to the back of her mind. “You really do seem enthusiastic about all this.”

“Do I?” A playful look appeared on Mel’s face.

“Oh, yes. Certainly. Your passion is obvious.” Vivienne was relieved at how easy it was for her to find her flow. She hadn’t lost her touch. “But there’s more than just admiration, isn’t there?”

“Is there?” Mel cocked her head.

“Yes,” Vivienne told her. “You sound like you want to be a bimbo, Mel.”

“Want to be a bimbo?” Mel echoed. “Why would anybody want that?”

Vivienne smiled to herself. Mel had taken the hook.

“Isn’t that what you’ve just been telling me?” Vivienne carefully modulated her voice to form a subtle but irresistible rhythm as she spoke. “For the blissful, dumb, mindless relief of it. To be free of all your worries and cares.”

“Free of it all.” Mel nodded agreeably. “Free of stress. Free of inhibition.”

“Right,” Vivienne nodded. She was surprised Mel wasn’t putting up a little more resistance. She really was naive. “If you were a bimbo, you could just… you could… um…”

Vivienne frowned. The words just wouldn’t come to her. That was unusual. For a hypnotist of Vivienne’s stature, weaving an induction out of their conversation should have been child’s play. Instead, Vivienne’s head just wouldn’t clear. No matter how hard she tried to think, she found herself distracted by the insistent, rhythmic chant burnt into her brain.

One, two, three! One, two, three!

“If you were a bimbo,” Mel supplied, after a moment, “you could just worry about looking hot and shaking your pretty little ass for your owner.”

“Right.” Vivienne blushed slightly, both from the images of Emma filling her head and from the embarrassment of needing help from her prey. “No more expectations. No more pressure. Just looking hot. Just exercise, and makeup, and pretty clothes…”

She trailed off briefly. Vivienne was suddenly dazzled by how right Mel had been earlier. In a sense, being a bimbo truly was something to envy. How long since she’d had time to devote a day to worrying about makeup and pretty clothes? Her assistants took care of most of that for her, so she had more time for meetings, and press briefings, and answering emails…

For things that just left her even more exhausted.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Vivienne pressed on, through the fog of her own confusion. “To just sink into that blank, blissful, bimbo headspace. To embrace being dumb for a change.”

“Being dumb?” Mel echoed again. There was a strange, keen look in her eyes; Vivienne wondered if she was already going under. “What’s so good about that?”

Vivienne seized upon the opportunity to explain. “It’s simple,” she said slowly. “When you’re dumb - when you can’t think - it only takes one little thing to take up all of your attention. No distractions. No bothersome thoughts. No stresses or worries. Just… um…”

It happened again. Vivienne fell silent as her attention wavered. Once more, Emma’s face and the blissfully dumb way she’d danced and cheered on the video were all she could think about. When she tried to form words, that ridiculous chant threatened to slip out of her mouth again.

“Just a blissful, blank, empty, bimbo mind,” Mel supplied. Her voice was so very soft.

“That’s right.” Vivienne seized her suggestion gratefully. “Just a blissful, blank, empty, bimbo mind.”

“You only need to think about what feels good,” Mel added.

“Only need to think about what feels good,” Vivienne told her.

She frowned. This didn’t feel quite right. It was so frustrating to feel so fuzzy and distracted at such a key moment. But there was nothing to do but press on.

“Here,” Vivienne said. To her own ears, her voice sounded slower. That was strange. “Let me show you.”

Fortunately, long practice proved sufficient to overcome her fatigue as, in a single, slick motion, she whipped her pocket watch out of her pocket and set it into motion in the air between them. Vivienne was pleased to see Mel’s eyes immediately fixed on the swinging object.

“There,” Vivienne instructed. “Look at the watch, Mel. Let it hold your attention. Let it drive all those other thoughts away. Focus on the watch.”

Mel simply nodded. “Focus on the watch,” she echoed.

If Vivienne hadn’t been completely focused on swinging the pocket watch, she might have rolled her eyes. It was astounding how defenseless this girl was. She would never be a hypnogarch. Better she be taken into Vivienne’s care.

“Focus,” Vivienne repeated. “Focus on the… on the…”

Her words died away. She was finding it difficult to keep the pocket watch swinging as she usually did. It was robbing Vivienne’s concentration; between that and Emma’s cheer, she could barely think.

“Focus,” Mel reminded her.

Vivienne nodded. “Focus,” she said slowly. “Focus your eyes on the watch. Let it drive all other thoughts out of your head, so you can focus on your mind on just one thing: you want to be a bimbo.”

“You want to be a bimbo,” Mel repeated.

“That’s right.” Vivienne allowed herself a small smile. It sounded completely backward when Mel said it like that, but a foolish mistake from a hypnotic subject was of no consequence. “You want to be a bimbo.”

She risked a glance at Emma. Emma was still perched next to Mel, seemingly lost in her own happy little world and entirely oblivious to what was happening to her owner. Yet again, Vivienne was struck by how wonderfully carefree she seemed. Vivienne herself felt as though she’d briefly touched upon that headspace while watching Emma’s video. What would it be like to exist like that permanently?

“You want to be a bimbo,” Vivienne insisted, turning her attention back to Mel. “You will be a bimbo.”

“You will be a bimbo,” Mel echoed back to her.

Vivienne frowned. Mel’s rote repetition was really starting to bother her, but she couldn’t seem to pinpoint why. Her head was getting foggier than ever. She was struggling even to string her sentences together. But she had to keep going. Vivienne’s style, as a hypnotist, was blunt and firm. She loved to impress her will upon her subjects. In a battle of wills, she never lost.

All she had to do was keep believing that.

“Imagine it for me,” Vivienne told Mel. “Imagine your thoughts becoming slower and slower. Simpler and simpler. Imagine how hard it would be to concentrate on anything difficult. Imagine…” Her brow furrowed. “Imagine…”

Glancing at Emma had been such a distraction. Suddenly she was having a hard time focusing on Mel. Emma’s presence was such a distraction. She was so perfect. So hot.

“Imagine how good the smallest little things would make you feel,” Mel suggested. “The color pink. Your own body. The beat of some fun music. Imagine how joyful those would be, if you didn’t need to think all the time.”

“Yes,” Vivienne agreed. She let out a plaintive little sigh. “Imagine… imagine that.”

“Imagine all those pressures and expectations, slipping off of your mind,” Mel went on. “Imagine how free you’d feel. Too dumb to worry. Too dumb to care. Too happy to let anything trouble you.”

Vivienne’s brow twitched again. Something was wrong, but she wasn’t sure what. Just keeping her pocket watch swinging was now taking all of her concentration. She couldn’t see the watch’s face, but her gaze was fixed upon its back, on the way the reflection of the lights above glinted and shifted on its metal surface as it swung.

“Yeah…” she found herself saying. Suddenly, everything was warm and heavy. Her voice. Her eyelids. Everything.

“Good,” Mel murmured. “Don’t worry. Just keep focusing on the watch. Keep it swinging. Nice and slow. Nice and even. Letting it take up all of your thoughts.”

“Yeah. Yes. Right. Focus… on the watch.”

That sounded right to Vivienne. Focus on the watch. That was all she needed from Mel. It was nice to think that focusing on her watch was all Vivienne needed to do.

“You… want to be a bimbo,” Vivienne said, after a long moment. She thought that was important.

“You want to be a bimbo.” Out of the corner of her eye, Vivienne could see Mel smiling as she spoke. “That’s right. I know it must be so hard. So exhausting. Being in the lead all the time. Being responsible for so many people. Needing to watch your back every moment of the day. Maybe that’s why you want to be a bimbo. Maybe, deep down, you just want to set it all aside.”

Vivienne twitched abruptly. Mel’s words felt like they were going right through her, setting off a sudden wave of alarm and nausea.

“I…” she bleated. “I… no… that’s…”

Part of her was crying out for the relief Mel promised. But another part of her was screaming that she’d never let it go. Her position as CEO - stresses, worries, responsibilities and all - was her pride. They were part of her, and so was her ambition. For Vivienne, giving any of it up would have been like severing a limb. It was unthinkable.

No matter how good it would feel.

“Calm down,” Mel soothed. “Breathe. Nice and deep. Focus on the watch.”

“No,” Vivienne replied, a little stronger. This wasn’t right. None of it. She needed to find her rhythm again. She needed to hypnotize Mel. Not this, whatever this was. She started blinking, trying to peel her eyes away from her own pocket watch.

“Focus on the watch,” Mel repeated, urgently this time. For the first time during their meeting, she sounded genuinely unsure of herself. That uncertain tone in her voice energized Vivienne. “I need you to… damn it… Emma, could you?”

She gestured, and Emma immediately rose to her feet. Vivienne gasped when the gorgeous bimbo stepped over toward her and sat down beside her on the couch, so close she was practically draped across Vivienne’s lap. She stopped struggling. The simple fact of Emma’s presence, of Emma’s touch, was dazzling.

Emma was so hot. So amazing. So perfect. Seeing her on OnlyFans was nothing compared to this.

“Tell her, Emma,” Mel urged. “Tell her how good it feels.”

“Sure!” Emma let out a light giggle and turned to Vivienne. “Um, well, she’s totally right! Being a bimbo feels fantastic.”

Vivienne whimpered. Her willpower was fading. Somehow, when it was coming from Emma, she just couldn’t fight it. Emma was all of her longing, condensed and made manifest. She was irresistible.

One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!

“I, like, don’t really remember too much about how I used to be,” Emma whispered into Vivienne’s ear. “I mean, most times, it feels like I’ve been Mel’s bimbo since, like, forever! But, um, sometimes? I get these, like, bad dreams, about being all boring and stressed out and stuff.”

Vivienne was hanging on her every word. How could she not? Emma was her idol.

“And… wow,” Emma sighed. “In those dreams, I’m always sooo miserable. And when I wake up, I really, like, don’t miss it. Y’know?”

Shivers raced through Vivienne. She’d never really bothered to consider who Emma might have been before her bimbofication. The prospect that she’d been someone much like Vivienne, at least in temperament, was instantly intoxicating.

“It’s sooo much better this way,” Emma drawled. Her lips were so close to Vivienne now, practically kissing her ears as she poured in her words. “Trust me! You trust me, right, Vivienne?”

Vivienne couldn’t help nodding eagerly. Emma, the bimbo superstar, had said her name. She’d actually said her name. Vivienne’s stomach filled with butterflies.

“Yay!” Emma exclaimed. “So just listen to her, m’kay? Mel is sooo smart. So much smarter than us, anyway.”

Than us. A whimper escaped Vivienne’s lips. She couldn’t tell if it was a protest or a girlish squeal.

“You love doing whatever I tell you to,” Mel broke in. She sounded calm again. In control. “Don’t you, Emma?”

“Of course!” Emma replied instantly, eagerly. “Obeying Mel feels sooo good. So much better than, like, having to think for myself. That gets soooo hard. So much better than having to worry about what all those other people think.”

“All you have to think about is me,” Mel said firmly.

“All I have to think about is her,” Emma repeated. She sounded as intoxicated as Vivienne felt. “Looking hot for her. Shaking my pretty ass for her.” She giggled. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Yeah…” Vivienne breathed.

She couldn’t help it. Deep down, she longed for what Emma had. For that simple, dim-witted, obedient, joyful bliss. And now, as her head spun with fog, another element was being added to the mix: Mel. When Emma explained it like that, Vivienne just couldn’t keep it separate.

Being simple and dim-witted, for Mel. Being obedient to Mel. Being joyful and blissful, because of Mel.

“Let’s face it, Vivienne,” Mel told her. “You’re just not good enough.”

Vivienne tensed again. That was the one thing she never wanted to hear.

“But that’s OK,” Mel assured her at once. “Even if you’re not good enough to be a hypnogarch or a CEO, you’re good enough for me. Good enough to be a bimbo.”

“I wasn’t good enough,” Emma whispered to Vivienne. Vivienne was instantly spellbound; how could she sound so happy about that? “I had to try sooo hard, all the time. Until Mel set me free.”

“Don’t you want to be free, Vivienne?” Mel asked.

“Don’t you want to be free like me?” Emma added.

Vivienne paused for a moment. Then, she sagged. She slumped back onto the couch, and the arm holding the pocket watch threatened to drop.

“Yeah…” she sighed dreamily.

She’d never imagined defeat could feel like such a relief.

“Good,” Mel praised. “Then I think this should actually belong to me, shouldn’t it?”

Mel reached forward and plucked Vivienne’s precious pocket watch out of her unresisting fingers. She kept it swinging just as Vivienne had, following the same rhythm, but it was now perfectly clear to both of them who was really in control.

“Are you ready to go all the way down for me, Vivienne?” Mel asked her.

Vivienne knew what that meant, and shivered from hot licks of humiliation - but only briefly. She was done fighting. She wanted to be like Emma. She was accepting that - at least subconsciously. She nodded.

“Then you already know what to do,” Mel told her. “Three… two… one… zero.”

As she counted down, Vivienne felt her thoughts fade. When Mel said ‘zero’, Vivienne went completely limp. Her eyelids fluttered for the briefest of moments before they fell closed. She fell back, letting the soft, comfortable couch catch her. She surrendered, and let a blissful, empty peace settle across her mind.

For the very first time, Vivienne Gilbert was truly and completely hypnotized.

Only after several long seconds could Mel bring herself to let out the breath she had been holding. She’d done it. She’d actually done it. She’d ensnared Vivienne. It was more than she’d dared to hope for - but once the tension passed and it became clear she had won, Mel found herself laughing helplessly.

“Did we do it?” Emma asked breathlessly.

“Yes,” Mel replied jubilantly. “Yes! Oh my god. Yes, we actually did.”

Emma smiled, then pouted at her. “And… did I do good?”

“You sure did, my love.” Mel bit her lip, and beckoned Emma back to her side. “Come here.”

Emma giggled and practically threw herself at her owner, leaving Vivienne slumped and entranced alone on her couch. “So, like, what now?” she asked.

“Well, I don’t want to get ahead of myself,” Mel replied thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how much of this she’ll remember, or how much of it will take. It takes more than one little trance to break a woman like her - but I think she’s ready to take the first few steps into her new lifestyle. At least, once I figure out what those should be.”

“Wow.” As she sat across her lap, Emma looked up at her owner with awestruck eyes.

“Yeah.” Mel giggled. “But before that, I think you deserve a little reward.”

“I do?” Instantly, Emma’s eyes were shining. “Yay!”

Mel put her hand on Emma’s hip and squeezed playfully, provoking an eager squeal.

“Absolutely. You did amazing - plus, seeing my perfect little bimbo help bring down Vivienne Gilbert was incredibly hot.”

They kissed - a long, drawn-out, passionate kiss that immediately threatened to turn into something more. After enjoying the make-out for a few moments, Mel used her grip on Emma’s hip to spin her girlfriend around beneath her, straddling her in the process. Emma submitted to her without hesitation, of course. Mel used her free hand to pin Emma’s wrists to the couch above her head, and let out a throaty, lustful purr as she brought her lips to Emma’s neck.

Hypnotizing Vivienne had seriously gotten Mel in the mood.

But before the two of them crossed the threshold into uncontrollable passion, Emma threw a glance across the room at where Vivienne was still sitting, limp and senseless. Mel paused, curious.

“Hey,” Emma said slowly, breathlessly. “I think I, like, have an idea for what her first step should be.”

Mel drew back briefly, keen to indulge her beloved bimbo. “Oh yeah?”

“Her clothes are, like, sooo boring,” Emma complained. “How about you take her out shopping and give her a makeover?”

—

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who  support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following  patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

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Finally, special thanks to Neana for commissioning this story!

[starman-john-tracy]

"You're safe here with me" + "I won't let anything happen to you" with Casey? :) 💙

John had taken the space elevator down to the GDF headquarters no more than half an hour ago, at Colonel Casey's request. There'd been a cyber attack on base; an attempted takeover of the GDF's long range weapons systems, and though nothing has been fired - they needed to rule out the possibility that someone could. With the tech team scrambling for solutions, scouring the databanks for any way someone could have remotely accessed their codes and their LAN, the Colonel could only think of one man she both trusts, and who’s qualified to step in and salvage the situation.

And with an updated firewall to prevent remote access, that he personally provided the protocol for, the only thing John Tracy can do to help is show up in person.

Only, John's got the soft edge of an atmospheric headache throbbing in his sinuses and his eyeballs are always the slowest thing to respond to the change in pressure between Five and Earth, so, as he bypasses the office full of scurrying IT consultants and heads directly for the server room, ready to not-entirely-legally plug Eos’ palm sized mobile unit into the GDF’s databases to assess the damage, he completely misses the slim, shadowed figure in amongst the data processing banks.

Because the remote attack hadn’t actually been remote at all, and the gunshot wound to John's shoulder, now leaking a dangerous amount of blood all over his IR blues, seemed like a pretty big clue this was no employee.

They're currently holed up in Casey's office - after the head of the GDF had bodily dragged his skinny space ass out of there. She's trying to force him down behind her desk and out of the way, while the intruder pounds on the door: his threats mostly incoherent screams and stray gunshots. John might not be as hot-headed as Scott or his youngest brothers, but he's still a Tracy and, clearly, the last thing he wants to do is sit still while others might be in danger and so the damned fool, who’s clearly never been shot before, keeps trying to get up.

“Colonel, we’ve got to- argh!” The spaceman gasps and jerks like a livewire as Casey presses a wad of cloth - a runner snatched from the fancy corporate meeting table - hard against the dark, bubbling wound in his shoulder. John's feet kick out, heels scraping helplessly against the corporate grey carpeting, and the boy's back arches against the pain in a way that plummets Valerie Casey’s heart straight through her shoes. She forces the emotion away, grabs one of his cold, blue-clad hands, and guides it on top of the wound.

“Keep pressure on that.” She instructs, as the dark stain spreads rapidly into not only his IR blues, but the ugly purple runner too. His fingers fumble and fail to take over the task, and a soft whine makes its way out between his teeth. “Come on John, you know to keep pressure on.” He's having a hard time focusing on her. She thinks he might be in shock.

“But the gunman,” John gasps, his head thrashing to the side, eyes wide, “he’s after-”

“John.” She cups John's ashen, blood-splattered face between both palms, like she would when he was a small boy and he'd come to the woman who was his Auntie in all but DNA with a bruised cheek and a split lip because he didn’t want to tell his Father he was being bullied at school. "You're safe here with me." Her mouth is a hard white line as she unclips her service pistol from it's holster, "I won't let anything happen to you."

The wood around the door handle audible splinters under a particularly savage impact, and Jeff's boy flinches under her fingers.

Oh, absolutely not.

"Security is on their way and no one is getting into this room, John. And if they somehow do," She raises the gun with both hands, holding it steady and level with the door, "they are not getting through me.”

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Boundless Breeding

Male Reader x Kang Hyewon

Length: 2344 words

Tags: the definition of breeding, various positions, Master play, dom/sub dynamic, rough sex with impregnation, teasing, spanking, begging, riding, doggy, mating press, multi orgasm, overstimulation, a lot of insults and degradation, Daddy kink, preggo!Hyewon

TW: Breeding kink, but with consequences, degradation, allusions to Master/Slave dynamic / Hyewon being owned

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies and I mentioned this in "Torrential Takeover" and now... we made it come true. I think OC made sure that Hyewon is REALLY pregnant lmao

Credit: @sooyadelicacies ofc, my co-writer for the series!

(A/N: This takes place right after "Punitive Punishment", and this time, we wanted to make sure that it's not overboard in terms of length lol. Enjoy!)

"Hey! Daddy where are you—"

Yujin's whine is cut off by you slamming the apartment door shut. No time to deal with her now. In all honesty, she hasn't earned it yet. A night of no sex will show her that you are able to enforce a punishment. 

The elevator doors open and close. To stand in this tiny space, not being able to speed up the process or do something meaningful in between, it feels like a real-life loading screen. You roll your eyes. Doors open and close.

The car is not that much different. Sure, you are in full control and need to drive it yourself, but with all the experience you have and empty roads ahead, it's just more or less the same. A waste of time, something to groan over. Money can't buy a teleporter if it doesn't exist. A helicopter though, you think with a sigh.

It will be worth it though. Jump out of the car and sprint over to the tall apartment complex. It will be worth it soon. Another elevator ride, but this time you are too distracted by the tightness in your dress pants. It'll be so worth it. Loosen your tie and knock on the apartment door. So worth it.

"Master! I'm so happy you came!"

What a surprise. A surprise that was definitely worth it. 

Hyewon, powerful idol, business woman, CEO—her rise has been steep and it was always evident in her new clothes. From the unique idol costumes, to more expensive dresses and lastly, the suits with ridiculous price tags. She probably wore a new, hand tailored one every day.

But now, for you, it's all different. Hyewon wears a gray hoodie, at least a size too big for her slender frame, as well as a pair of dolphin shorts. Her hair is in a simple ponytail, messy but not completely out of control. Excitedly, she sways from one leg to the other and plays with the hem of her hoodie. 

"I did not expect my slut to look this... casual," you murmur after catching your breath. With every step you take into the apartment, Hyewon backs off more and more. She is diligent to keep a respectful distance between herself and her master. 

"Master, you don't like it? I'm so sorry! I will immediately change into—"

"I didn't say that," you laugh and take a quick step to close the distance. A glass door right behind Hyewon prevents her from keeping the distance, so you relish in her fearful, begging, needy eyes as you caress her tender cheek. She is smaller than you, but like this, she is downright tiny, miniscule, nothing. A hole, she admitted it herself. 

"Hm, but maybe a costume would be better. How about a cow or some bunny ears. That would be more fitting," you whisper and pinch her cheek. 

"Anything for Master, I'll get right to it," Hyewon says with fake enthusiasm that can't hide her uncertainty and mind-controlling, desperate desire. This otherworldly feeling of power over her, to control everything, down to the one final thing she wants, keeps you from taking her on the spot.

"No, too late. Get on your knees and crawl, bitch. I won't lie, I'm a bit disappointed thus far."

Hyewon is obedient. Her bare knees touch the cold floor and her hands follow suit. You open the class door and she gets the point. In a hurry she moves deeper into her open space apartment. 

"This place looks quite impressive. Who owns it?" you ask.

"Master does," Hyewon responds and continues to crawl closer to the couch area. 

You reach for your bitches shorts and yank them down. A firm, quick smack on her bare buttocks makes Hyewon squirm and wince. Literally nothing of her former power remains when you’re around. Hit her ass again just for that cute, submissive voice to return.

"M-Master..."

"This ass is not bad either. Who owns it?"

"My Master does. He owns all of me."

"Oh~" you hum with a smirk and sit down on one of the many couches you didn't even know you own. A snap of your fingers later, Hyewon wiggles herself in between your parted legs. The shorts around her thighs make every move difficult. 

"Hyewon," you say calmly, your smirk fading into a much more wholesome smile, "you can stand up and take them off. You are so tense, God, it's painful to watch. And not the sexy kind of pain."

"Th-thank you, Master."

Hyewon gets up and pulls off the black shorts from her gorgeous legs. You reach for her thighs and pull her closer. Her perfectly smooth, already moist pussy touches your knee, then your thigh. The fabric of your trousers rubs over her core and a pent-up moan comes from Hyewon's mouth. 

"My slut likes that, huh?" you say teasingly and softly nibble on her earlobe. Hyewon has not been touched since the fateful meeting that changed both your lives. Soon, you'll be one of the richest people in the country, from a millionaire CEO to a billionaire with a monopoly.

Meanwhile Hyewon went a very different path, from a prodigy of the business world to a toy that just wants to be filled with cum. Your cum, the stuffing you did not pump into her the last time. She wants it so badly.

"Hm, Master. It f-feels good."

"Good, then I'll make you cum."

A second of silence. Surprise and disappointment are in Hyewon's eyes, but she hesitates to open her mouth to speak up, instead she moans at your touch. You grab her waist gently and drag her body up and down your thigh. The friction on her pussy makes Hyewon whine.

"B-but I thought M-Master wanted—"

"No, you wanted it. You begged for it back then, but it looks like you've changed your mind."

Hyewon cups her mouth as her moans get louder. She certainly enjoys this already, probably even more so because of her deprivation for sex. Only when you feel for her tummy and tits beneath the hoodie does she respond.

"N-no, I—your bitch still wants to be bre-bred. Please, Master, p-put your semen in me."

Slap her ass once, twice, then move to the other cheek. You repeat the process and tug at her messy ponytail. Before you roughly bite her delicious looking, luscious lips. You growl straight into her anxious face:

"Beg, you dumb whore. Beg for it, beg for me."

Hyewon screams. Your teeth dig into her fragile flesh and your fingers attack every inch of her fuckable body. She is so sensitive, the flurry of feelings makes her mind go haywire. Your bites move down her chin to her collarbone, when Hyewon's voice becomes louder than ever before:

"Master, I'm your toy, your cow. I'm nothing without your cock, please fill me so I can be something!"

"More!"

"I need to smell like your seed and gush it all over the place. I need you to fuck me, Master, fuck your heir into me. Breed Hyewon, please!"

You open up the tight prison that are your pants. At the same time, Hyewon gets rid of the hoodie that has left her upper body all sweaty. She is in heat, physically incapable of anything else before your manhood spears her open. Luckily, you set your cock free and immediately place it on Hyewon's needy pink lips. A flick on her labia, and she begins to cry.

"Please, Master, I'm your sex toy, your bitch. Fuck me—ah!"

You push upwards, into Hyewon, while guiding her down onto you at the same time. Before you are even fully inside, she wants to bounce on it, but you keep her waist in place with rough hands on her smooth skin. Give her a pissed look and she falters. Hyewon remains still as your cock goes deeper and deeper. Before you reach her cervix, you give her tits a hard slap and her cry is a double high note.

"What should you say, bitch?" you ask, unimpressed by her writhes and sways on your lap or the way her hands hold onto your knees for dear life. There is enough evidence for you to believe that Hyewon is in fact already close to an overstimulating orgasm. Good.

"Th-thank you, Master."

The tight grip of her lingers on you for a bit. You've only fucked her once, which means that she still feels unique, exceptionally suffocating to your already well-used cock. Combined with her fabulous body and stunning face that has already melted to your will, it helps you enter a stage where there is nothing but fucking, nothing but breeding on your mind.

Pound upwards. Hyewon begins to bounce as well. Your voices combine in a duet of unintelligible sounds of pure bliss. Wet pussy juice and pre-cum leak fast, you're basically forcing it out. You need to pump into her, need her to ride as long as she can. It won't be long and she will be limp. You put one of Hyewon's bouncing tits in your mouth. The other gets twisted gently, roughly, somehow. All for her to go faster, become tighter.

“Ah, Master, s-so good," Hyewon babbles and tries to go faster. It's funny to think that she is simultaneously giving it her all to ride you, while her walls suck you in so hard that she can barely move past the friction.

"Hm, you like to be bred so hard," you say, your voice failing to formulate it as a question, but they way her entire body perfectly milks you, it might as well be fact. 

The well-known knot in your stomach is under your full control, just like the bitch on your lap. Yes, this power is incredible, control absolutely superb, but if you're honest to yourself, you don't mind cumming uncontrollably, all the time, deep inside. You let go.

"Fuck, Hyewon, I'm gonna—"

"Yes, Master, fill me! Breed me!"

You reach for her shoulders and press her down. Hyewon screams next to your ear when your nibble at her jaw is a sudden bite. Her heavy gushing cannot stop your first filling of her child-bearing organs. A sticky, wet sensation engulfs you, engulfs her mind. Hyewon went limp too fast.

Limp or not, you go for more. This is not enough to be certain, hell, it's basically like you're just about to start. Remove Hyewon from your lap, ignore the way she twitches in the aftermath of her orgasm. You bend her over the living room table. It's a bit too small to recreate the view from when you first fucked her in "her" office, but perfect to see her ass high up. She looks so fuckable, even from behind.

You insert yourself again and fuck not only your cock, but also all the cum deep, deep, deeper into Hyewon. After a shriek, she stays breathless at first, but after a minute of unrelenting drilling, she begins to cry. The overstimulation got to her.

"M-Master too-too much!"

"Are you sure you want me to stop—" you hiss viciously while pulling at her hair, "—while I give you this gift of a child?"

"Ah, n-no," Hyewon shouts through her tears. You let go of her hair and spank her rippling ass.

"I thought so."

You reach in between her legs and through your pistoning find her sensitive nub. You rub it with all the wetness of Hyewon's juices and she orgasms again. Involuntairly, her body rocks back and forth to make your fucking even faster. Her cunt once again grips for dear life, it even heats up—okay that might just be your second load, which you dump into her at that moment. 

Usually your mind gets dazed after this much sex with a rollercoaster of climaxes, but just like in a bad Wattpad-Smut, you go for one more round. You wish it would be as big as in those stories, but it's more or less just an excuse to push seed into Hyewon's womb and fall into a delirium of overstimulation.

You spin Hyewon around and place her back onto the couch. She is drooling, whimpering, her marvelous face just a mess of contortions and sweat. With no regards to her flexibility or consequences to potential aches all over her legs, you put Hyewon in a mating press and continue to fuck her. It hurts your spent cock, but her pussy is a perfect pool of warmth and tightness you won't leave yet.

"Master, Master!" Hyewon cries out, her voice crooked. 

"Soon, when you finally fulfill your purpose, you can call me Daddy, cow!"

Your hips work significantly slower, but with more intent. The penetration does not end at random spots. Your cockhead deliberately hits deep, and Hyewon's body jerks with each hard, stimulating attack. Her hands bounce the same way her voluptuous bosom does. Wet noises, mostly queefs from her pussy dominate this song of mating. Moans and groans have been replaced by elaborate breaths and the occasional peek when you hit Hyewon's cavern hard enough.

It's all over soon. Things will be set in motion that cannot be undone. The world-famous, wildly beloved ex-idol is now bound to become pregnant. Her glorious, flat tummy will become concave. Your companies are about to merge, and in the midst of this massive, complicated process with lawyers and data and all the other boring bullshit, something wonderful happens. Sure, it's dirty and seems loveless, but Hyewon's glistening orbs tell a different story.

Tears stream down her face as she pulls you into a hug. Her cunt sucks the last droplets of fertile baby batter out of your balls. You are empty, but she is overflowing.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Master," she coos and wails as you collapse. Exhaustion hits you like a train, a hydrogen bomb, a fucking meteor. You crawl onto the couch and fall into a dream, a dream where Hyewon is happy, grateful, with a child in her arms.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I surely lost my mind.

[heavenslittlemachine]

honestly the wide-scale stripping down of regulatory power that's been picking up over the last couple of years coming at this particular point in time (on the climate disaster elevator, at the dawn of the pandemic epidemic, in the midst of these chain-reacting ecosystems breakdowns etc) is like. kind of fascinating right cuz we are at this like, point that isn't quite the point of no return, u have all these climate, ecological scientists & epidemiologists etc being like we could actually be ok, there is still a decent opportunity for things to be ok if the state just makes these various policy changes pretty soon and the various interwoven mass crises we're staring down the barrel of can be averted. and now right at this very critical intersection of choice (on a policy level, at least, to say nothing of popular choice) we're seeing this years in the making institutional takeover of all of the exact kinds of people who are absolutely deadset on doing the complete opposite of Any of that. people who will choke out the entire world for an incremental increase of perceived luxury. while their opposition is the people who will choke out the entire world in a slightly more prolonged way for a slightly more incremental increase in perceived luxury. but maybe we should be saying something on popular choice !